


Isharay

by say_lene



Series: The Fisher's Lure [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 12:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 114,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22969789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_lene/pseuds/say_lene
Summary: Making a long-distance relationship work is hard, particularly when the participants are two driven professionals. But trouble is stirring in Heleus, and Sara and Reyes soon realize that distance is nothing compared to the past...
Relationships: Female Ryder | Sara/Reyes Vidal, Ryder/Reyes Vidal
Series: The Fisher's Lure [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/755151
Comments: 78
Kudos: 61





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> If you've been kicking around the ME:A fandom for a while, you'll realize that Isharay is not a new work. I published the final chapter to AO3 in January of 2018. Mostly, people were supportive, but I received several comments on tumblr that have since made me incapable of writing anything that comes in at more than a hundred words. I deleted the work, and my tumblr, not long after. Since then, writing has become an exercise in self-hatred for me. Looking at a word document gives me headaches.
> 
> But I was off sick this week and got the urge to play ME:A; a game I haven't touched for more than two years. The intro music made me tear up a little, because... you know what? I fucking love it. But Andromeda, writing, social media in general - all of it had become this massive, tangled ball of self-loathing that I've been carrying around with me for all that time. And something about opening the game and playing through to Eos' vault... it made me want to see how true to the universe my writing on ME:A had been. Because the game? It was GOOD. Fuck the internet.
> 
> So I reread The Fisher's Lure. I'd forgotten everything except the broad strokes of the plot. I laughed, and I cried, and I remembered how much I loved writing about Sara. And when it was over, I told myself that was enough. I knew I had written a part two - a sequel, if we want to use that word - but I remembered how terrible it was. I remembered how tumblr's reaction to it sparked this emotional avalanche that I've never really escaped from.
> 
> But continuing in the game... didn't feel right, somehow, and that took me right back to why I wrote Isharay in the first place. Neither Sara nor Reyes felt *complete*, either at the end of the game or at the end of The Fisher's Lure. So I steeled myself with the promise that if it got too painful, I'd stop.
> 
> And I opened Isharay.
> 
> I'm writing this now having spent what must be close to a whole day just *reading*. It wasn't much like the Fisher's Lure, really; it had moved past the will-they-won't-they dynamic that tumblr loves so much, and it's setting didn't facilitate the jokey banter that people (including myself!) had come to expect from my writing. It was long. It was emotional. It dealt with things that many Reyes fans probably wouldn't agree with me on.
> 
> But it was *good*. I made myself cry multiple times. I impressed myself with how honest the characters' voices still felt. I was shocked by how articulately I conveyed the vaguely-outlined fractures I'd always felt sat at the core of Reyes' character - and the perpendicular one's I'd felt in Sara's. I fucking loved it, in the same way I loved Andromeda.
> 
> Defiantly.
> 
> So here I am, posting it again; in defiance of that debilitating self-doubt that I still feel, telling myself that it doesn't matter what people think of it. I'm going to stop scouring my writing for the flaws that other people see but that I've been so blind to. I'm going to stop thinking about this work as some secret shame.
> 
> Here it is.

"I'm not sure about this," Sara muttered.

The lake wasn't sapphire blue anymore. It wasn't cloying and thick, either - at least as far as she could see. It was a wash of delicate teals and greys, lapping at the base of the rock platform quietly. It looked so _peaceful_.

"You're sure it's safe, SAM?"

The sunlight was warm on her neck and shoulders, though a chill still clung to the rest of her. Valley walls loomed around her, the sheer slopes rising steep towards the sky; cradling the glassy tarn between swathes of green-streaked rock. Kadara's jagged mountains fell away beyond, even if Sara couldn't see the crags right now - and something about the knowledge caught and buoyed her soul on updrafts.

She was almost literally on top of a world.

SAM sounded like he would have rolled his eyes, if such a thing were possible. "My spectroscopic analysis has a 0.02% margin of error, Pathfinder. If you desire independent corroboration, Dr. T'Perro can conduct additional water quality tests in the Tempest's med bay."

Reyes' shadow fell over her, hands settling heavy on her hips. "Trust me, Sara. We're completely safe."

Even after all this time, Reyes' voice in her ear still sent shivers down Sara's spine - but they were _warm_ shivers. They chased pirouettes around her vertebrae, gathering around her lungs to turn every breath sweet. His palm smoothed over the small of her back, warmer than the sunlight on her skin.

His touch suddenly firmed -

And he pushed her into the water.

Sara had time to yelp - and flail wildly, spinning on her heel - but she was utterly beyond saving. She hit the water with a splash, icy colour rushing over her while her skin flashed suddenly cold. The water was _deep._ Momentum carried her down further, sunlight dimming and sound fading; the faint bark of Reyes' laughter still reaching her in the depths -

A kick, and then another - and Sara broke the surface again, spluttering indignantly. Sopping hair was plastered to her face. She pushed it back out of her eyes, still spitting errant strands and lake water.

"I swear to god, Reyes, you're going to pay for that."

She shrieked again when his moving shadow blocked out the sun; turned away, giggling helplessly, when he landed in the water beside her. There was a moment of almost-quiet when the chilly lake swallowed him whole, but he surfaced a heartbeat later, grinning just as widely as she might have expected.

"Bastard," Sara muttered. She made a half-hearted effort at a retaliatory splash, but Reyes was ready for it. He twisted away, chuckling in obvious satisfaction.

"I couldn't resist." He chanced a glance over his shoulder - clearly checking that Sara wasn't preparing for another strike - and winked. One hand snaked out to encircle Sara's waist, hot skin and cold meeting like the interface at a stratospheric inversion. "Did I scare you?"

"No." She wasn't lying, and it felt good to be able to say it - because she wasn’t just talking about the water. She squirmed closer, ankles tangling with his as they both kicked to stay afloat. "But you'd better watch out, Mr. Vidal. I _am_ going to get revenge."

"Maybe I'd be okay with that." His lips grazed the line of her jaw, warm breath tickling her throat. "Provided it's a creative form of revenge, of course. Anything less would be an insult."

"Hmph." Sara caught his chin between her fingers and pulled him in for a proper kiss. It was deep at first, and lingering, but her rhythm soon crumbled beneath a wave of breathless giggles. "This is ridiculous."

"Maybe it is," Reyes breathed. Kissing in deep water was more difficult than the vids would have suggested; Sara watched him seize the edge of the rock platform to keep them both afloat. A fleeting crease formed between his brows - then disappeared, banished by a taut-edged smirk. "I suppose it's not as romantic as I'd hoped."

Maybe he didn't realize how poorly he hid those sticky insecurities, but Sara saw them.

And she loved them.

"I like ridiculous," she murmured, trailing fingertips up along his spine. "And I love you."

Reyes didn't wince or groan at the corny line. His eyes lit up instead, and the sight melted Sara's heart the same way that it always did. He kissed her again, softly this time, conscious thought evaporating as they sank lower in the water. Sara fumbled for the ledge, but she barely felt the scrape of her fingertips against the rock; barely noticed as the water crept right up to her throat.

Six months. Hardly more than a heartbeat, by Milky Way standards. The woman Sara used to be would have scoffed at the way she was behaving now, because six months wasn't nearly enough time to fall in love. It was less than the time she'd needed to trial that history degree. It was less than the time they'd given mom for her final prognosis. Six months was nothing.

But mom still hadn't died.

The old Sara's Milky Way wanderings had never strayed beyond the narrow limits of the mass relays, and her dreams were hemmed in by dark space. She'd been collared by the strictures of a mortal's limited days; tied down by a gravity that went beyond mere flux or force. She'd never seen Eos' flowers in bloom. She'd never seen Kadara fall away on either side.

The old Sara was long gone; slain by distant starlight and an off-centre bullet. She had a scar over her hipbone to prove it - and she was done letting other people tell her how to live.

Reyes let her go right before they would have sunk; cupped her cheek with one slippery palm, his eyes still full of something that made Sara's heart swell. "Stay here," he urged quietly - and the pleasant warmth in Sara's chest began to fade. "With me. The Initiative has other Pathfinders, now. They don't need you."

He paused, and the new rasp in his voice made it clear that his next words weren't some line.

"Not like I do."

He tried it every time. The sudden ache it summoned never lessened - but in the moments in between, Sara was happy. She liked to think that Reyes was, too.

Sara slid her palm up over his, fitting her fingers to the gaps between his knuckles. "I wish that I could," she murmured. "But I can't."

\---

Her visits were always too short.

Reyes supposed he'd feel that way about anything short-lived enough to still be called a _visit_ , but neither of them were in a position to make that sort of change. That wouldn't stop him from continuing to bring it up, though; wouldn't stop him from making that last-minute entreaty every time Sara went away. It was probably stupid to throw himself so readily into a relationship like theirs - but Reyes gave no thought to caution.

Because he loved her the way that a star burns; without thought or fear or worry. He couldn't stop it any more than he could stop Kadara in its orbit. He didn't want to try.

But every time she turned him down; every time she smiled at him sadly and told him that _she couldn't_ , he still felt a little twinge of disappointment. It was expected. It was inevitable, really - but it left splinters in his heart all the same.

He wasn't really asking her to stay, he supposed. Not anymore. His real question was too trembling to give voice. It was too raw to expose to the cold Kadaran air.

_Why not?_

But the water was cold, and Sara's lips were warm. Her touch sparked fusion flares across his skin. Reyes pressed his lips to the curve of her throat, eyes fluttering shut when she sighed into his hair.

"One day, I'll change your mind."

He didn't need to see her face to know that she was smiling sadly. "I want to, Reyes, I really do -"

Somewhere in the pile of clothes on the shore behind them, an omni-tool chimed. Sara flinched, and Reyes groaned. " _Shit._ "

"Expecting a call?" Sara asked. "I thought that you told your contacts -" She broke off, the muscles in her back abruptly going rigid. Reyes might have been worried by her sudden silence, but he'd grown familiar enough with SAM's private interjections to recognize the signs. Finally, she sighed. "All right, SAM."

"Bad news?" Reyes brushed his lips over her shoulder, pulling her as close against him as he could. He had to kick madly to keep his head above water, but he needed this moment of closeness - because he could already predict her answer.

"Yeah. I need to get going." The fact that she sounded sorry didn't make it any easier to hear.

But Reyes couldn't complain. He _had_ told his lieutenants only to contact him in an emergency, and that meant there was a crisis waiting for him on the shore. Even if Sara had stayed, Reyes couldn't linger.

So he kissed the curve of her jaw, and he hoped his touch might linger in his place; might cling to her so tightly that she carried him with her for light years. She pressed her lips against his temple, whispering those dreaded words against his skin.

"Could you fly me back to the Tempest?"

It proved difficult to clamber out of the lake. Reyes scraped his knee on the edge of the rock platform, and Sara swore colourfully, struggling to get enough leverage to pull herself up. She descended into giggles once they'd both finally escaped, sprawling out across the rock like her limbs were made of jelly - but her giggles quickly died, and her smile faded before Reyes had the chance to kiss it away. She shivered as the mountain chill settled over them, but the pale sunlight seemed to set her skin ablaze.

One day, she'd stay. Reyes wasn't sure if it was a promise or a futile hope.

But he had to believe it.

They dressed hurriedly. Reyes took a moment to glance at his omni-tool as he struggled to pull his trousers over his damp legs. Keema had sent him an alert, but she hadn't included any details in writing. That was good; Reyes had become more than a little paranoid about permanent records. He'd call her once Sara was safely returned to her ship.

He still wasn't dry when he pulled his shirt back on over his head - it was much too cold to wait for the last of the moisture to evaporate - and the damp fabric clung to his skin like he'd stuck it there with glue. His dripping hair tracked water across the earth as they made their way to his shuttle. Sara's did too, although she made an attempt to wring it out before they climbed aboard. Still, the pilot's seat was smeared with water by the time the shuttle took flight.

Sara's seat remained empty. She stood by Reyes' side instead, palms smoothing over his neck and shoulders as they cleared the lip of the mountaintop crater; fingertips caressing his jawline as they climbed higher into the sky. Reyes murmured something about turbulence in the ionosphere, but she merely shook her head. He couldn't infuse his words with much heat, and she seemed unwilling to leave him; unwilling to be parted from him a moment sooner than she had to be.

White-blue slowly darkened until the sky turned into space. The Tempest was a back-lit speck against Govorkam's burning surface, growing ever larger as the shuttle approached. The Pathfinder's visits to Kadara were less conspicuous if she avoided landing in the port, so this trip was entirely familiar. Reyes knew the minutes should have been longer - but the time passed in a heartbeat.

Hell, it always did.

Sara's touch turned almost urgent as they closed on the vessel. Reyes reached up to catch one of her wandering hands, pulling it to his lips. He planted a kiss against her palm.

There was no harm in trying again. "Stay with me?"

He kept his gaze on the Tempest, of course; tried to keep his breathing even despite the catch in his throat. His eyes were stinging - and Reyes felt like kicking himself.

Sara answered in the only way she could. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She nuzzled in against his neck. Reyes knew what was coming.

"I can't."

Kallo sent a greeting over the comm while Reyes brought the shuttle in to connect with the Tempest's airlock. Sara responded easily, but Reyes didn't register the words. They said their farewells against the inner airlock door. Reyes' hands were on her hips. Sara's fingers were in his hair.

"When will you be back?"

"As soon as I can be."

He believed her, of course, even if her answer was unavoidably vague. He'd take what he could get - but it wouldn't stop him wanting more.

"Goodbye," he whispered. The angara had a better word for it; one that crammed in more feeling than strung-out, greying English ever could.

Sara tried to smile at him, but she only wound up looking sad. "Goodbye."


	2. Two

"All right, guys. It's time for details. What's up?"

Sara was standing at the Tempest's bow, reclining on the railing. The Govorkam system was vanishing down an FTL tunnel as if it had never existed in the first place. Departures like this were routine enough that Sara could almost put it out of her mind - but she could still taste Reyes on her lips. Shouldn't routine make goodbyes easier?

Kallo made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. "Tann wouldn't tell _us_ either, Ryder. Power's really going to his head - especially with most of the humans gone from the Nexus."

"He's left a comm channel on standby," Suvi cut in. She sent Kallo a look clearly intended to squash an overreaction. "When I spoke to him, he sounded worried. You should really call him back."

Sara didn't notice that her hair was still dripping until she was halfway up the ramp to the conference room. She glanced around guiltily - then wrung it out over the pot plant near the couch. A quick twist saw it secured at the base of her neck before she called up the pending comm connection.

"Director Tann?"

The Initiative's accountant-turned-leader could never be accused of being charming, but he wasn't often obviously curt. Today, things were different. "Ryder. Get to the Vaalon system. Now."

Sara frowned at him. "It's lovely to see you too, Tann. To what do I owe -"

"We'll talk when you're en route, but you need to get moving _now_."

Sara kept up her glower, but she decided there was no harm in obeying. "Kallo, take us to the Vaalon system. Eyes open." The Tempest's inertial dampeners meant she didn't feel the shift when the ship's course changed, but she saw the telltale FTL ripples through the conference room's curving windows. "Now - what's got you so jittery, Tann?"

"There's a situation developing around a Kett orbital cache near Ejoda. An Initiative resource team is engaged in a standoff with an angaran mining crew. I need you to get in there and calm things down."

"A standoff?" Sara echoed. "Why?"

"There was a…disagreement over whose claim to the cache is most valid." Tann shrugged - and although Sara had always had trouble reading salarian body language, she got the distinct impression that he wasn't telling her everything.

"And what's in this cache that makes it so special?"

"It's full of element zero, Ryder."

The way his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened seemed to suggest he expected a dramatic reaction - but Sara only shrugged. "Okay. So what? I scoped out an eezo deposit last week."

"It's _pure_. Refined _._ There's enough crystallized eezo in that cache to power a dozen Normandy SR-1s."

Okay - _that_ made Sara's jaw drop. "A Tantalus drive core costs more than a hundred billion credits. And that's just _one._ "

"I'm aware, Ryder. Unfortunately, the angara are aware of the cache's potential, as well - even if they've never heard of a Tantalus."

"Are you negotiating?"

Tann hesitated. "Evfra maintains that the angara's established mining sites on Ejoda make the cache angaran property. I disagree."

"Of course you do."

"Evfra is…stubborn. I've sent several combat shuttles to back you up."

With that, the FTL bands encircling the Tempest dissipated. The Vaalon system materialized around them in replacement, the blue star bright on one side and the Scourge lightless black on the other.

"What's our goal here, Tann? I'm not starting a fight with the angara."

"You're out here to stop one, Ryder." Tann shook his head - and something about the simple gesture made Sara's nerves spark. "But you're going to secure that cache, too."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reyes messaged Keema back the moment the Tempest was gone.

_To: Keema Dohrgun_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Something fit for a commlink?_

_\--_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_No. Come see me._

Kadara Port was bustling, of course. The exiles had flourished under the Collective's firm hand, even if the cracks in the foundations might never truly heal. A fellow smuggler flagged him down at the entrance to the market, but Reyes made his excuses and hurried away. The metal confines of the prefab city kept the air up here almost warm, and the temperature differential was raising sweat under Reyes' collar.

It always surprised him how his heartbeat could stutter one moment and firm out the next, like his longing was only real if the Tempest was in the system. He was getting better at pretending that Sara wasn't far away - so long as no one reminded him that she was gone.

Keema ruined it, of course, barely a moment after he entered her throne room. She eyed his sodden hair and clinging shirt with a smug smile twisting her lips. "You had a good morning, then?"

Reyes frowned at her. He swept his hair back out of his eyes, wishing he'd had time to smooth it back properly. "What was so urgent you had to disturb me?"

Keema's smile vanished. "Drama in the Vaalon system." She handed him a datapad, gesturing for him to look through its contents. "The details are all in there, but to put it simply: the Initiative and the Resistance are staring each other down over an extremely lucrative discovery. Purified element zero - and enough of it to fuel unprecedented expansion in Andromeda."

He flicked through the document quickly, scanning for the usual keywords. _Credits. Influence. Conflict._ "Shit."

"One of our scouts made reference to something called a Tantalus." Reyes' eyes widened. "He says there's enough purified material in that cache to make a dozen of them - and to make Tann's greedy head explode."

Reyes had to admit that his head felt like it might explode, too. A _dozen_ Tantalus drive cores? A dozen stealth ships? That put the cache's value in the region of more than a trillion credits.

Pity there weren't that many credits in the galaxy.

"And has it?"

"Not yet. He's sending ships out there to strong-arm the angaran mining team." Keema paused, worry written all over her expressive face. "The Resistance is sure to retaliate. I don't like this, Reyes."

"Neither do I." Something cold had settled in Reyes' gut. It was a feeling he'd grown very familiar with. "If that idiot starts a war with the angara, we're all going to suffer."

Keema nodded. "You're right. But if we send ships to intervene, we risk adding kindling to the fire." She paused - and in that moment, it was clear that Reyes needn't worry she'd ever try to take control of Kadara for herself. Keema was _scared_ \- and her first instinct was to turn to him. "What should we do?"

"I'll take those ships. A handful only."

Keema's eyes widened - then quickly narrowed. "You'll be in danger, of course. I'll assume you know that."

Reyes nodded sharply. Leading the charge wasn't really his style, but there were some things he wouldn't trust to lackeys. The Initiative couldn't afford a war, and neither could the angara. It hardly seemed to matter that the Collective couldn't afford a war either - because none of them could weather a storm out here alone. He wondered at just how blind Tann was.

It was pretty clear why he'd called Sara away.

\---

The Kett cache was surrounded.

The cache itself was huge, which Sara supposed she should have expected. The familiar hallmarks of Kett design were plain on its grey-green surface, complete with unsettling round protuberances and vaguely insectoid curves. A dozen angaran shuttles were gathered around the cache, their curved silhouettes starkly outlined by Vaalon's light. Evfra must have called in reinforcements; there were far too many of them for a single mining team to explain. They'd arranged themselves in a circle, like an early-warning satellite system - or like wagoners preparing to face down some bandits.

The Initiative were the bandits, of course. About two dozen Nexus shuttles - considerably larger in number than the angara - were clustered together a few clicks closer to the star. Suvi's terminal lit up with comm requests as the greetings came in.

"Pathfinder," SAM said in Sara's ear. She was pathetically grateful for his presence, even if he only had bad news. "The additional angaran vessels are broadcasting on encrypted Resistance frequencies. They are likely to be in direct contact with Evfra."

Sara was standing on the bridge, trying to control her tells. Gil always told her that she fidgeted when she had a bad hand. It didn't help that the others were nervous, too; Kallo was tapping one foot like he was trying to drill a hole through the deck, and Suvi's eyes were wide like blue-stained saucers. Jaal and Cora were standing beside Sara, each glaring at the shuttle circle with expressions that she couldn't read.

Sara's gaze landed on Jaal. "Will you talk to them? They're more likely to listen to you."

"And what would I say?" Jaal's voice was tight. It was lower than usual, too, and almost threatening; as much like a growl as she'd thought it the day she first set foot on Aya. "I suspect Director Tann believes the angara owe him something." He turned to meet her eyes - and Sara almost shrank back. "We do not."

"I know that, Jaal." Sara reached out to touch his shoulder. For a moment, she was afraid he'd push her away - but the anger drained out of him like she'd put a pin to a balloon. "But you could ask them to chill out, right? To give us time to sort this out."

Jaal sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingertips, his eyes closing and his brow furrowing like he was fighting off the galaxy's worst headache. "I can do that," he agreed. "But it will not be well received. The Kett told us they wanted to talk, too."

Beside him, Cora shook her head. She muttered something about Tann's mother under her breath.

Sara turned to Suvi. "Send the angara a comm request."

It seemed to take eons for the request to be acknowledged. Sara was just beginning to wonder if she'd messed things up already when a view of a shuttle interior appeared on the Tempest's viewing panel. She was looking at an angara, his face obscured by one of the Resistance's hardsuit helmets. She couldn't see his face - but she could tell he wasn't happy.

"Pathfinder," he snarled. "You shouldn't be here. The Initiative is intruding on an angaran world."

Sara knew she'd already asked Jaal to do the talking, but she couldn't let that slide. "We're not on an angaran world," she said carefully. "And we don't dispute that Ejoda is yours."

"The Initiative has no claim to this system," he snapped in reply. "I have been instructed to view attempts to approach this Kett cache as an act of aggression against the Resistance."

Alarmed, Sara held up her hands. She hoped it was placating. That kind of gesture _must_ be universal. "We don't want to fight anyone."

"Then go back to the Nexus. You are not needed here."

Sara glanced at Cora - but her second shook her head. They both knew what would happen if they left. The Tempest could bail on this shit show as soon as it took Sara's fancy, but it wouldn't do anyone any good. The pilots in those Initiative shuttles wouldn't leave until Tann gave his say-so - and if Sara wasn't here, she couldn't do anything to influence the outcome.

"I'll leave when I know there's an agreement. We need to resolve this peacefully."

The angara bristled with anger. "You are the aggressors here. Call off your wolves - then we can talk."

Jaal grew tired of standing by. "They are not Ryder's wolves," he growled. "We are here to maintain peace until Evfra and the Nexus can come to a fair arrangement."

"Evfra has made his feelings clear, Jaal. The only fair arrangement is one where the angara -"

He cut off at the same moment SAM spoke up on Sara's private channel; at the same moment Suvi squeaked and Kallo muttered a bewildered expletive. The salarian pointed at something on his sensor readouts.

"Pathfinder," SAM said quickly, "six Collective shuttles have just arrived in the system. Mr. Vidal is attempting to contact the Tempest."

"Collective," the angara snarled. The tension in his voice could have powered a drive core. "The _vesagara_ stick together, it seems. Did you know about this, Jaal?"

Everyone on the bridge was staring at her - including Jaal. Sara struggled to weather her shock, forcing down the little bubble of air that was trying to push a squeak from her throat. Even Cora was looking at her suspiciously, mouthing something that Sara couldn't quite make out.

She could take a good guess, though. _Did you plan this?_

"The Collective has nothing to do with us," Sara said shakily. She was fumbling at her omni-tool, trying to send a message without it being too obvious.

Thank god for SAM. "Should I ask him what he is doing here, Pathfinder?"

The angara was out of his seat, now, helmeted head butting against the shuttle roof. "You expect me to believe that?"

" _Yes_ ," Sara said to SAM. The angara, she tried to appease. "I'll ask the Initiative ships to back off. Will that help?"

"Mr. Vidal claims that he is here to prevent warfare," SAM said quickly, "He intends to support the angara and avoid an outright fight."

"No," the angara growled, oblivious to Sara's second conversation. "You will instruct them to _leave_ , Pathfinder - and the exiles, too. This is angaran territory."

The Collective ships were near enough to see, now. Sara recognized Reyes' shuttle at the rear of their formation. They were getting closer to the angara's shuttle circle. Too close.

"Tell him to back off, SAM." Sara's voice came out strangled. What the _fuck_ did he think he was doing?

The Collective ships halted - positioned between the angara and the Initiative. "He appears to be attempting to provide a buffer between the two forces, Pathfinder."

One of the Initiative shuttles, emboldened by the Collective's advance, began edging closer; stuttering a little, but inching inexorably forward -

The angara saw it too. "One warning, Pathfinder. Tell them to stop!"

Sara flapped her hands at Suvi. The science officer slammed her palm down on her console, almost climbing out of her chair in her haste to contact the shuttle.

"Stop!" She sounded frantic. "The Pathfinder orders all shuttles to hold position."

The shuttle slowed - but it didn't still. Inertia? Failed thrusters? Whatever the reason, the space between it and the blockade was closing -

The comm feed cut out, and the angara opened fire.

It was sudden and contained chaos. Angaran accelerator cannons flashed blue and screamed silent in the vacuum - and Initiative weapons fired in response, beams of superheated alloy streaking bright across the backdrop of space. The Collective ships scattered, some lurching toward the Initiative in an attempt to disrupt their formation; others peeling back toward the angara like they were trying to dilute the field. Reyes' shuttle went with them, weaving between the angaran ships like he was trying to draw their fire.

Sara scrambled over to Suvi's console. "Hold your fire!" she screamed into microphone, clinging to Suvi's shoulders.

No one bothered to answer.

One Initiative shuttle - the one that had ignited the firefight - was struck by an angaran weapon. It was shunted sideways by the collision, spinning out as its stabilizers failed. One of the angaran shuttles suffered a similar fate at the hands of an Initiative pilot. Sara could see a warning flashing on Suvi's console.

"Its life support systems are failing," Suvi hissed.

"The angaran pilot will not survive long without assistance," SAM said in Sara's ear.

Sara almost leapt out of her skin when a _thud_ sounded behind her. Jaal had slammed his fist into a bulkhead. "This must _stop_!"

The angaran shuttle circle was holding steady, the ships' fire now spread between Initiative and Collective alike. Sara grabbed for the console again as Kallo took the Tempest into a steep dive, narrowly avoiding a hail of gunfire that could have come from anyone.

"Communication from Director Tann," Suvi gasped, fumbling to connect the comm channel.

It activated with a distinct _crackle_ \- and the sound of whispers hastily hushed. "Hold your ground, Ryder." Tann sounded frantic. "I don't care what you have to do, but we can't lose that cache. Do you hear me?"

Sara was about to tell him she didn't give a fuck what he wanted -

But Reyes' shuttle had taken a hit.

It was spinning nose over tail, leaking black smoke that was barely visible against the blue star's illumination; plummeting towards the cache while its damaged thrusters fired uselessly. A heartbeat stretched out forever as everyone present realized what was about to happen. Refined eezo wasn't explosive - but colliding with a mass that large would be like colliding with a moon.

"Ram him, Kallo!"

"What?"

"I said _ram him!_ "

The Tempest lurched forward. Sara's heart was leaving bruises against the inside of her ribs, her lungs pressing flatter with every metre. The other ships were turning their fire on the Tempest, opposing forces finding common ground as they attempted to stop the Pathfinder from achieving whatever their paranoid minds imagined she intended -

"Brace for impact!" Kallo yelled.

They collided with a _bang_ \- and the blood-chilling scrape of metal on metal. The sound shuddered through the hull, but Reyes' shuttle spun off on another trajectory. He was safe.

For now.

"Minimal damage to the outer hull," Gil said over the Tempest's PA system. "Try not to do that again, hey?"

Sara ignored him. "SAM?"

"Mr. Vidal extends his thanks, Pathfinder. He asked me to assure you that his thrusters will be fixed momentarily, although he claims that you owe him a new coat of paint."

Relief was washing over her like she was at the bottom of a well - but this wasn't over yet. Kallo took the Tempest into another dive as more weapons fire flickered past the ship, the coloured beams scattering blue across the bridge.

"We need to fight back," Cora shouted. She was clinging to the back of Kallo's chair.

"No!" Jaal's snarl was almost chilling, his stricken expression illuminated by the glare. "These are my people, Sara! This is not _right_ -"

"Another incoming comm," Suvi called. She sounded shaky. "It's from Evfra."

Abruptly, the weapons fire ceased. "The angara are holding their fire," SAM said through the PA system. "As are the Initiative."

"What about the Collective?"

"They appear to be departing the system."

"Even Reyes?"

"Yes."

Sara took a moment to close her eyes and _breathe_. At least one of them was safe. She turned back to Suvi, gesturing for her to connect the comm. "Evfra?"

The Resistance leader's voice came through loud and clear. "Enough of this."

"Evfra, I swear we never -"

"I don't care," he snarled. "I'm patching a few people into this channel, Pathfinder. I am not inviting you to speak. You are here to listen."

Sara glowered at the ceiling, but her eyes widened when Suvi pointed her to one of the displays on her console. Evfra had brought Paaran Shie and Keema into the call - as well as Director Tann.

"We're all here." There was no way Evfra could have seen the renewed tension that swept over the Tempest's crew; no way he could have known that Suvi clutched at Sara's hand or Jaal clenched his fists - but he seemed to sense it anyway. "This stops. Now. None of us can afford to fight each other."

Tann's voice grated on Sara's ears like dry chalk on basalt. "Does this mean you're finally prepared to compromise?"

"You'd do well to drop that tone," Evfra growled. "This day will go down in history as the day the Initiative finally showed their true colours. You're thieves - just as surely as the Collective."

"I don't accept that," Tann blustered. "Ejoda may be an angaran mining asset, but the rest of the Vaalon system -"

Keema sighed loudly. "Shut up, Tann."

"Compromise," Paaran Shie murmured thoughtfully, "is adequate. For now. We will accept a share of half the element zero."

"Half?" Tann sounded affronted. "There are three groups on this call, governor. You can't expect -"

Sara sighed even more loudly than Keema. "Shut _up_ , Tann!"

A split-second silence followed in which Tann was clearly wondering whether to reprimand her - but he ultimately decided against it.

Evfra spoke up instead. "Your people started a skirmish," he said darkly. "We will not leave with less than half."

"Kadara is prepared to cede our share to the Initiative," Keema said carefully. "On the condition that the alliance between the angara and Initiative is reaffirmed. Andromeda needs stability - now more than ever."

There came another silence - and a moment in which Sara clutched at Suvi's hand, too.

"We affirm," Tann said eventually.

"As do we," said Paaran Shie.

Sara let out a slow breath. It felt like she'd been holding it for hours.

"We'll settle the specifics on another channel," Tann said tersely. "For now, I have something to discuss with the Pathfinder."

Sara listened without really hearing as the leaders confirmed the new comm channel. She watched as the little lights on Suvi's console flickered out one by one, until only Tann and the Tempest were left.

"What the hell was that, Ryder?"

"A clusterfuck," Sara snarled. "And it was your fault."

" _My_ fault? You were communicating with the Collective! If not for them, this never would have gone as far as it did."

"What? How do you even -"

"We don't have time to discuss it now," Tann snapped. Sara could hear him shuffling datapads on the other end of the line. She could hear people arguing in the background, too. "You'll return to the Nexus immediately."

"What for?" Sara had another destination in mind. She had a man that she wanted to check on - and probably scold, too.

The director sighed, drawn-out and exasperated; like he couldn't comprehend her confusion. "For a disciplinary hearing, Ryder. This time, you've gone too far."


	3. Three

Reyes' pride was a little bruised.

The firefight wasn't his fault, of course; if that wide-eyed Initiative cowboy hadn't gotten ideas about sneaking in closer to the angaran shuttles, Reyes was convinced that conflict could have been avoided entirely. But it hadn't, of course.

And Reyes had taken a hit.

He'd taken a _hit_ \- something he hadn't done since his first skirmish over Anhur. The fact that it was from an accelerator cannon only made it worse. If you slapped the range of naval weapons on a scale, accelerator weapons would be on the slow and heavy end. He'd leave that particular detail out of future retellings - even if Sara's response had given him a story that would earn him free drinks for the rest of his life.

He wondered what he'd say to her when she called. She'd almost certainly be mad, but probably not at him. Not _really_. Disaster had been averted, after all; Keema had shared the good news about the even eezo split, and nothing had been broken that couldn't be repaired. He could include the Initiative-angaran alliance in that assessment.

Reyes was feeling pretty good about that.

Sara would berate him for meddling, but Reyes was fairly certain that Collective interference hadn't been the firestarter she probably thought. Without the Collective there to displace some of their allies' aggression, the damage could have been much worse.

Reyes was a little disappointed that he'd missed out on a share of the take, but credits were useless if you weren't around to spend them - and eezo was as good as useless if Andromeda went to hell.

Sara still hadn't called him by the time he made it down to Tartarus. He headed for his private room and locked the door behind him, shucking his jacket as he went. He'd had a fully-fledged vidcall system installed in here when Kian rebuilt the top floor, but the indicator light on the console remained resolutely dull. Sighing, Reyes poured himself a drink.

Now that he was alone - really alone, with the nightclub noise drowning out the world around him - he took a moment to let himself feel it.

Fear.

Latent terror had been clinging to the branches of his lungs since the moment that superheated alloy impacted the hull. He'd kept his reaction pragmatic; upped the eezo integrity field and checked for any serious damage - but when he'd realized the thrusters weren't firing, his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

The angaran projectile had destabilized the cylinders that fuelled the hypergolic thrusters. It was a quick-fix kind of problem, but not quite quick enough. He'd watched the kett cache growing larger as he helplessly careened towards it, the air in his shuttle feeling thinner than the vacuum. He'd wondered why his life wasn't flashing before his eyes. He'd wondered if he should get a message to Sara.

But nothing he could think of felt nearly like enough.

It felt just like coming out of cryo with sirens in his ears and a stranger in his face; just like waking up to find the whole of the Nexus going to hell.

He'd been so sure he was going to die.

Reyes sat down on the couch and _breathed_ \- but the air scratched his throat like gravel. He took a gulp of whiskey, but the smooth burn hardly helped. He needed a distraction.

The comm only chimed once before Sara answered. She must have been in her conference room, because the vidcall picked up her image. The projection was about as low-res as he might have expected from a cross-system EM link, so it didn't pick up the freckles on her nose or the shadows under her eyes - but it caught her sudden smile, and that was enough for Reyes.

"Are you okay?"

Reyes might never get used to that; the gentle concern in her voice that said that she cared about him for _him_. It melted those rocks in his chest like they were ice and she was the only warmth in the universe.

"I'm okay," he answered.

"Good." Her smile gave way to a glower. "So what the hell was that?"

"I went to Vaalon to stop a shitfight, Sara."

"Great job!"

Reyes frowned. He got it - he just wasn't used to being questioned. "Bullets were going to start flying whether the Collective was there or not. We slowed things down enough to -"

"To get shot?"

"Sara -"

She sighed sharply; harshly, too, like she was spitting venom just to get it out. "I - _shit_. I'm glad you're okay, Reyes. Just… you scared me."

"I'll play it safe in future. Believe me." Sara smiled again in answer - but even through the vidcall static, Reyes could see that it didn't reach her eyes. "There's something else, isn't there? Keema told me that the angara and Initiative are negotiating peacefully."

"They are."

"So what's wrong?"

Sara shrugged. She raked her fingers back through her hair, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Tann wants to put me on trial."

" _What?_ "

"Well, not _trial_ trial. He's calling it a disciplinary hearing."

Reyes was bewildered - but he could feel a building pressure, too; in his chest, below his sternum, and in the sudden tightness in his jaw. "How does he plan to justify that?"

Sara shrugged. She was trying to play it cool, but Reyes could see her plucking at her sleeve. "Something about collusion."

"With?" Reyes already knew the answer, but he needed to hear her say it.

She hesitated. "The Collective."

" _Shit._ " There it was. "Sara, I'm -"

"You don't have to say you're sorry," she snapped. "This isn't your fault. It's Tann being an asshole." She forced another smile. "SAM says all they can prove is that I have contacts in the Collective. He never logs the time that we're together. He never keeps records of anything that could give you away."

"Thanks, SAM." The noose around Reyes' throat loosened a notch. "So I'm your Collective contact, huh?"

"Worried you'll have to testify?"

"Not funny, Sara."

"I'll be okay. And I won't bring you into it." She reached out like she wanted to touch him - until she remembered they were light years apart. "Scott's taking leave to come back me up. I'll be back on Kadara before you can say _the people versus Sara Ryder._ "

Reyes sighed. "Again. Not funny."

"I thought it was." For a moment, her smile was real; as bright and broad and beautiful as if she was standing right in front of him. "I'll see you on the other side of this, okay?"

"I love you."

Sara put a hand over her heart. "I love you, too."

With that, she ended the call.

Maybe Reyes would have been okay if he wasn't still riding that undercurrent of fear; if that existential dread wasn't clutching at his lungs. But he was, and _it_ was - and stoking the fury higher in his chest was the only way he could think to chase that chill away. Sara had done the best she could with the shit show Tann had thrown at her.

And the Initiative wanted to _punish_ her?

Reyes downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. He dialled another frequency. "Keema?"

She declined the vidcall function, but her voice came in loud and clear. "It's _late_ , Reyes. What's wrong?"

"Who do we have available on the Nexus?"

Keema groaned. " _Skkut_. You think I have them memorized?"

"Ryder's been called in for a disciplinary hearing. I want to know _everything_ that happens in that meeting."

Keema sighed - but he heard bedsprings creak as she sat up. "I'll handle it."

"And in the morning, you and I need to sit down. I don't trust Tann any further than the nearest airlock."

\---

"What do you think, SAM?"

"I am not equipped to make an assessment of your attire, Pathfinder."

SAM didn't sound impressed, and Sara found herself agreeing with his unspoken criticism. White collared shirt; black pencil skirt; functional heels. It was fine, she supposed, but the skirt clung to her curves just a little more than Sara would like.

"You're right. No one sees a skirt like this and thinks _wow, what a capable Pathfinder._ "

"You may be overthinking this. Your outfit is unlikely to influence the outcome of the hearing."

"I'm going for the trousers."

They were holed up in Peebee's apartment on the Nexus. Demand for station-side accommodation had risen sharply since the onset of the second wave awakenings, and Sara was glad that Peebee had managed to hang onto this place. It was tiny, and the bathroom was so cramped that Sara had to squeeze herself into a corner just to open the door. But it was private.

Private was good, because it was getting harder to breathe. If Sara was unfortunate - if she closed her eyes at the wrong moment, or breathed in a little too sharply - it was just like she was fourteen again, curled up on the shower floor while mom convulsed and cried; while dad wrapped his arms around her and chanted reassurances Sara wasn't meant to hear.

SAM felt it, of course, because SAM felt everything. He kept Sara's heart rate down as best he could; measured her breathing and adjusted her diaphragm to keep her on the safer side of panic. He talked to her, too, calmly detailing the puzzles he was attempting to unravel. P versus NP; the Hodge conjecture; the mystery of the Initiative's benefactor - he talked her through his progress like he was coaching her to follow in his footsteps, but they both knew she wasn't really listening to his words.

Tann had given her no time to prepare. The hearing was due to take place in less than an hour - and Sara could feel the seconds slipping away like they were sand dribbling out of her veins.

 _The people versus Sara Ryder._ It didn't seem so funny now that Reyes wasn't here for her to smile at.

She was still pulling on a pair of black pants when Scott yelled at her through the bathroom door. "Hurry it up! We're waiting."

"I'm nearly ready!"

An unfamiliar voice spoke up as well - and Sara jumped. She knocked her head on the towel rail rather painfully.

"It's no problem. We can talk like this. Can you hear me, Pathfinder?"

"Yes," Sara hissed. She straightened up, hastily buttoning her trousers, and leant in closer to the mirror to examine the bump on her head. "Who are you?"

He sounded British - but not Liam's particular brand. His accent was polished like a marble floor or a brass doorknob. "Aidan Cable. I'm your lawyer."

"They brought lawyers to Andromeda? Could have used you on the Nexus a few months ago."

"Second wave," Cable said easily. "But I did hear about that attempted murder. No one will ever call me non-essential again."

Scott snorted. "Don't worry, Sara. Only the best for my sister. He was _meant_ to be first wave."

"Meant to be?"

"Oh, you know. Reshuffling."

"Right." Sara felt sick. "I need a lawyer, then?"

Scott's answer was slow and careful. "Just covering your bases."

"Mmhmm." Sara pulled open one of the cabinet drawers, digging through Peebee's sparse belongings in search of a comb - but the asari didn't have one, of course. She settled for carding her fingers through her hair instead, hoping her roots wouldn't look so flat in the courtroom.

What the hell was wrong with her? Bouncy hair and a sharp collar wouldn't save her if the Nexus leadership found her guilty.

Sara swallowed hard. What did she have to lose? The worst Tann could do was slap her on the wrist and send her on her way.

So she straightened her shoulders and tossed back her hair. She looked her reflection in the eye.

She could do this.

She opened the bathroom door to find Scott squashed up against it. He was trying to make room for the man beside him, but they both stumbled forwards when Sara yanked Scott's support away. Picking themselves up, they fixed her with equally guileless expressions. Scott's was clear concern. Cable's was a broad smile.

"Sara Ryder," Cable said, like Sara needed to be introduced to herself. He was tall, blue-eyed and blonde - and he looked very much like a lawyer, even if he was no more than a few years older than her. His hair was perfectly placed, his jaw was perfectly chiselled, and his handshake was perfectly firm. "It's an honour."

Sara wondered if he'd let her borrow his Initiative pin. If he were a few sizes smaller, or she a few sizes larger, she might ask to borrow his crisp suit as well. "We'll see if you still feel that way after the hearing. How long do I have, SAM?"

"Thirty minutes."

Sara wanted to curse, but she couldn't seem to find enough air.

Scott did it for her. "Shit."

"I have a few things I'd like to go over," Cable said.

He sounded entirely too calm, but Sara followed meekly when he turned and led the way down the hall. Peebee didn't have a couch - or any furniture, really - but Cable perched on the edge of the kitchen counter happily enough. Scott went to join him, and Sara huddled up against a wall.

Her confidence was already crumbling.

"Coffee?" Scott suddenly asked. He twisted around like he was searching for a canister. "Wait. Peebee really doesn't have -"

"We're fine," Sara snapped.

Cable rubbed his hands together briskly. "Right. As I've already told your brother, I would have liked a little more time to prepare - but I don't think you have a lot to worry about."

"Really?"

"Really. Hearings like this aren't run in the same way as a criminal trial. That's my area of speciality, by the way." He paused long enough to smile that perfect smile again. "No one is trying to prove that you committed a crime, Sara. Instead, the committee will be trying to ascertain whether or not your behaviour warrants disciplinary action."

"What behaviour? Specifically, I mean."

Cable's gaze stayed steady - but it zeroed in. It _focused_ , like he was looking at her under an electron microscope. "That's what I'd like you to tell me. Just like back home, I'm bound by attorney-client privilege."

"I thought you said I didn't have anything to worry about."

He smiled again. "I said you didn't have a _lot_ to worry about. There's a distinct difference."

Sara sighed. It grated - but she told him everything she could. She started with the shootout in Vaalon and Reyes' near miss, though she was careful to keep Reyes' name out of it. She told him about her frequent visits to Kadara, though she called it _outreach_ instead of _shore leave_. She told him about the Collective's protection of Ditaeon, and vaguely outlined her involvement in toppling Sloane. She told him about Remav, too, and the hell that Kaetus had put her through - but, again, she left out Reyes' name. It was always _Collective contacts_ that played the pivotal roles in her stories. It was always nameless allies that threw the planets out of alignment.

She didn't like to talk about Remav, even to those that were closest to her; not to Reyes, not to Scott, and not to Cora. Talking about it now was enough to make her throat close over and her hands feel cold; to start oily fear pooling in her belly and flashes of adrenaline spiking through her veins. The little starburst scar above her hip didn't scare her, of course. She could touch it, and she could stand to have it touched, too - but explaining just how helpless she'd been; admitting that she'd stumbled into a situation that she'd never had a hope of surviving on her own -

She hated it.

She hated Kaetus for making it happen. She hated Sloane for dying in the first place; for giving Reyes means and motive and opportunity, and for being the kind of person that Kaetus would do terrible things to avenge. She hated herself, too. She hated that she wasn't strong enough to stop it.

Maybe she would have hated Reyes, too - and maybe he, out of all of them, was the most deserving of it. But she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

 _Shit._ Sara just wanted to lay down and cry. She was exhausted - and if Tann started a war with the angara, she knew exactly who everyone was going to try to blame.

Cable didn't ask many questions. He stopped her a few times in the beginning, asking for clarification of minor and insignificant points, but he soon grew tired of her non-responses. Something in his face said that he understood her discretion. Still, Sara knew he was unimpressed - and probably suspicious, too.

Her fears were confirmed when she finished her monologue. Cable peered at her for a moment, his lips a hard line beneath furrowed brows.

"That's…rather more interaction with the Collective than I'd expected."

Sara's stomach dropped down into her shoes. "But I haven't got a lot to worry about, right?"

Cable shook his head. He glanced at Scott for help, but her brother only shrugged helplessly. Cable sighed.

"Look, Sara. I meant what I said before. This isn't really a trial - but there are weeks of blacked-out SAM logs that you're going to have to explain. We both know that Tann will be trying to prove you're colluding with the Collective."

Sara shrugged. She knew.

"So here's the million-credit question. _Can_ you explain them?"

Cable stared at her like he hoped her thoughts might be written on her retinas; like if he watched her for long enough, the answer might leap out of her forehead fully-formed. Scott was staring at her too, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Sara shrugged. She didn't know.


	4. Four

Sara took a deep breath. The Nexus didn't have any courtrooms, and she supposed she should be thankful for that. Holding the hearing in Pathfinder HQ, though - that made it worse, even if the venue was closed to the public. Only a select crowd had been allowed entry, and they were crammed in together by the windows, watching Sara watch the floor. The Tempest's crew were back there somewhere.

Zheng He's blue star was piercingly bright. If Sara closed her eyes, she could feel it burning through her.

The rickety fold-out desk she'd been supplied with wobbled every time Cable opened his omni-tool. She'd been allowed to sit so that she had her back to dad's statue, at least, and she was glad of it; she didn't want to think about her father's image presiding over this disaster. Scott sat tall and straight beside her, like he was trying to make up for Sara's sudden timidity; like he was hoping Tann might send some of the ire his way if he could just make himself stand out.

The usual seating had been cleared to make room for the inquiry panel. Tann was there, of course, sitting smug at the central position; three-fingered hands clasped in front of him like he was a lord watching over his domain. Sara met his eyes defiantly, but it didn't bring her any joy. Addison was beside him, tapping her fingernails on the tabletop. Kandros was there too, his expression utterly unreadable. They were waiting on Kesh.

Sara couldn't decide if she wanted her to hurry - or hoped that she'd never show up at all.

Scott and Cable were talking quietly, but they weren't discussing Sara's impending doom. Sara had a feeling it was for her benefit. They were talking about the Citadel; arguing amicably over whether Kithoi or Tayseri Ward had the better music venues. She supposed it was meant to calm her nerves, but it only made her want to hit something. She didn't need coddling. She needed _solutions_.

Then again, maybe that was the point. Maybe they just wanted her to snap out of it.

SAM was talking to her, too, and that was what really kept Sara together. It was almost nonsense, again - at least as far as Sara was concerned - but he gave her whirling thoughts boundaries. He kept her grounded.

"I am continuing my analysis of the DNA profile we obtained from Jien Garson's apartment, Pathfinder. I have been cross-referencing the viable nucleotide sequences against the genome samples gathered from Initiative personnel prior to departure from the Milky Way.

While I have not yet been able to identify Ms. Garson's killer, I have managed to narrow the pool of potential suspects down to a list of 7694 individuals."

"Psst!"

Sara twisted around in her chair. Liam had muscled his way to the front of the audience, and though he was a good three or four metres away from her, he managed an excellent stage whisper.

"You got this, yeah? Nothing to worry about."

Sara managed to smile in response, but it crumbled the moment she turned back around. It was an effort not to sink lower in her chair.

"Pathfinder," SAM said quietly. "I do not recommend looking now, but there is a woman standing behind Mr. Kosta whose clothing shows traces of acidic corrosion."

"Well, now I _have_ to look," Sara hissed. True enough, there was a woman by Liam's shoulder who looked more or less like an ordinary observer - but she winked when Sara met her eyes. Sara abruptly turned her back. " _Shit_. That's just what I need. Do you think -"

Kesh entered the room, and Sara didn't even hear SAM's answer - because her blood pressure spiked and plummeted, her veins twisting and contorting like all the water inside her was trying to evaporate. The crowd at large seemed to catch its breath too, background noise dropping away to nothing like the station was venting atmosphere. Hell, maybe it was.

Kesh paused as she passed the hill that Sara was about to die on. She smiled gently. "Stand tall, Ryder. You aren't alone here."

Sara wanted to reply, but her heart leapt up into her throat like it was trying to throw itself at Kesh's feet. By the time she pulled herself together, the krogan was halfway to her chair. The room didn't breathe in the time it took for her to take her place. Tann lurched to claim the silence as his own, narrowing his eyes and lifting his chin like he was looking down at Sara from a magistrate's bench.

Sara tried not to listen to his preamble. _He'll try to scare you,_ Cable had told her. _He'll try to make you sweat._ She saw Tann's lips move. She heard him spitting phrases like _official_ _determination_ and _proportional discipline_ , but she refused to give him a reaction. She listened to SAM instead, calm detachment settling over her like a kinetic barrier.

Until Tann frowned - and Scott elbowed her in the ribs. SAM fell silent.

"I'll repeat," Tann snapped. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I see you brought a lawyer," he said snidely, glancing down the panel table with a wealth of poorly-hidden meaning. "For procedural oversight only, I'm sure. You are required to speak for yourself."

"Of course."

Tann's frown deepened. "Very well. Pathfinder Ryder, this hearing was precipitated by your actions during a recent engagement in the Vaalon system. Before we proceed, I must remind you that the details of that engagement are not cleared for discussion at this hearing. Until I indicate otherwise, I will require that you limit your responses to my questions to _yes_ or _no_."

The reactions of the remaining leadership were varied. Kesh sighed, frustrated resignation written all over her face, while Kandros just looked wary. Addison seemed utterly unsurprised - and completely untroubled as well.

Sara scowled at them.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Cable nudged her with his foot. That was his signal for _be careful._

"Then let us begin," Tann said. "Can you confirm that you were present in the Vaalon system between 1333 hours and 1350 hours standard time on the day of -"

Sara cut him off. "Yes."

"And that you were there in accordance with orders from myself."

"Yes."

Tann looked down at his omni-tool as if he was checking something - but it was quite obviously for show. "For the benefit of those panel members who are unfamiliar with the context -"

Sara rolled her eyes. _For the audience,_ he meant.

" - the Pathfinder was present for a multilateral skirmish that involved Initiative personnel. Collective exiles were also involved. Can you confirm this?"

Sara sighed. " _Yes_. But by multilateral, you really mean -"

Cable kicked her in the ankle, this time. Scott hissed in her ear. But they needn't have bothered; Tann was already speaking over her.

"During the battle, you were given a direct order to - I quote - hold your ground. Is that correct?"

Sara had to take another deep breath. "Yes."

 _Fuck._ This wasn't an auspicious beginning.

"Did you obey that order?"

"Yes!"

Tann's eyes widened in mock surprise. "We have SAM logs and flight records that say otherwise, Pathfinder. Please describe for the panel what occurred during the moments immediately following the order."

"Sure." Sara clenched her fists in an effort to ignore the growing concern on Kesh's face; the slow smile creeping across Tann's, and Addison's total lack of reaction. "There was a shuttle about to… collide with something." She bit the last words off like she was chewing rocks. "I ordered my pilot to change the shuttle's trajectory."

Tann's smile spread wider. "How?"

"…By flying the Tempest into it."

"By 'ramming' it?"

Sara scowled at him. "That's what it says in the SAM log, right?"

"Indeed it does." Tann glanced down at his omni-tool again. "Was it an Initiative shuttle?"

"I don't understand the question."

Cable cleared his throat. That was the code for _stop lying._

"Was the shuttle you rescued an Initiative shuttle?"

"No."

"Who was it affiliated with?"

"I can't answer that with yes or no."

"You have permission to elaborate."

Sara swallowed. The words scraped her throat like sandpaper. "The Collective."

"I see." Tann peered at her like a librarian - or like an accountant, she supposed - looking down his nose at some hooligan. His lack of a nasal bone didn't seem to be holding him back. "At this stage, I would like to have the damage to the Tempest's outer hull entered into record."

"It was only very minor -"

"Please, Pathfinder. Do not interrupt."

There was fire in Sara's lungs. She was about to tell him where he could shove his records - but Scott nudged her with his elbow.

"Chill out," he whispered. Still, Sara could tell he felt it, too. His lips were pale. His jaw was set.

"For the benefit of the panel," Tann continued, "the Tempest is our most advanced -"

Kesh slammed a hand down on the tabletop. "For all our sakes, Tann, stop wasting time with context. We're all familiar with the Tempest."

Tann took a moment to glower at her. "Fine. As I was saying, the Tempest was damaged as a direct result of Ryder's decision to disobey orders in the course of aiding a Collective ship. Would you call that an accurate assessment?"

Sara wanted to hit something, too. "No!"

"Was any part of my statement inaccurate?"

"Well, no. Not exactly, but -"

"Then let's move on. Your last official assignment on Kadara was prior to the founding of Port Meridian. When was your last _un_ official visit to Kadara, Pathfinder?"

Another nudge from Cable - and he cleared his throat, too. _Be careful. Don't lie._

Sara held her head high. "Yesterday."

More mock surprise. "So you were on Kadara just prior to the engagement in the Vaalon system?"

"Yes."

"How often do you visit Kadara?"

"Every now and then."

"Could you put a figure on it?"

She shrugged. "I don't think so. I do a lot of travelling."

"If you could endeavour to -"

Addison cut him off, this time. "Let's just cut to the chase," she snapped. "Pathfinder, the Tempest's records indicate that you have made twenty-two return trips to Kadara in the last six months."

Sara's stomach felt suddenly hollow. Was it really that many?

Addison pressed on. "Can you explain those visits?"

Sara shook her head. "It's like I told you," she said. Her voice sounded a little raspy. "I'm the Pathfinder. I path find. I can't do that if I don't travel."

Addison raised her eyebrows in a way that somehow managed to say both _of course_ and _you're full of shit_ in the same small flex of facial muscles. "Have you found many paths on Kadara?"

"Not recently -"

"Are you meeting with someone?"

Sara nearly swallowed her tongue. When she answered, it was with a voice that scraped and wavered - and she could have kicked herself for the lapse. "Kadara Port is a big place, Addison. I meet people every time I'm there."

"I'll be more specific, then. Were your visits to Kadara undertaken in order to facilitate meetings between yourself and members of the Collective?"

Addison was frowning, now, and it was enough to make Sara long for her previous indifference. Kandros was leaning forward in his chair, mandibles twitching whenever Sara moved. A turian glare - particularly one from a combatant like Kandros - could still fill her chest with ice; still lock her spine like cooling solder and whittle her bones like chipped glass.

And it did.

"I'd like a moment to confer with counsel," Sara croaked.

Addison raised her eyes to heaven while Kandros' glower turned harder and sharper - but Tann's hands bunched into fists. His eyes narrowed, darting back and forth between Addison and Sara.

"I see no reason to delay -"

"The Pathfinder is entitled to consultation," Cable said suddenly. It was the first time he'd addressed the panel, and Sara couldn't help but be impressed; he spoke confidently without being arrogant; clearly without being loud. "Initiative protocols state that she must be allowed a ten minute recess when requested."

Tann's glare was withering - or would have been, if the man had any warmth in him at all. "Fine."

The crowd began muttering immediately. Cable ducked his head to speak to Sara, beckoning Scott around to obscure the audience's view. He lifted his hand to hide his lips from the panel, gesturing for Sara to do the same.

"They're going to corner you either way," he breathed.

Sara could barely hear him, so she had hope that the krogan ears in the room wouldn't prove keen enough to eavesdrop. She could still see Tann in her peripheral vision, arguing quietly with Kesh. Kandros was still glaring. Sara tried to look away, but his gaze held her pinned like needles through the scruff of her neck.

"And they're going to ask about the deleted SAM logs," Cable continued. He snapped his fingers until Sara gave him her full attention again. "How are you going to explain them?"

It felt like she was falling; like she was drowning in a fluid without mass or shape or buoyancy. She had no idea what lay beneath her - but she knew it wasn't good. "I don't think I can. There's no one on Kadara worth visiting, except -"

Except the one person she couldn't mention.

"Ditaeon," Scott whispered. He was covering his hand with his mouth. "Something…commercial in confidence?"

Cable shook his head. He looked a little uncomfortable. "Ethically speaking, I can't advise you to lie. Pragmatically speaking, a lie like that is easily disproven."

Sara tried to take another deep breath - but it wouldn't come. Her lungs filled quick and short and reedy. "Shit."

"Maybe it's time to cut your losses," Scott whispered. Even quiet, the words were hesitant; brittle, too, like he expected her to shatter them the moment they left his lips. "Just…tell them you're sleeping with someone in the Collective. They won't know who - and it's better than this bullshit."

Sara shook her head. Had he forgotten already?

She couldn't run the risk that they'd ferret out Reyes' name. Kaetus had already connected the Charlatan to Sara, and most of Kadara Port knew it. If the Initiative connected Sara to Reyes, too, it was only a matter of time before someone noticed the symmetry; connected A and B or put one and two together.

Reyes Vidal was the Charlatan. Maybe Sara shouldn't have had to do it -

But she wanted to protect him.

It wasn't just about Reyes, though. At this moment - strung-out and pale as it was, bathed in blue light that burned - Tann's assault was on Sara's integrity. If she did what Scott wanted; if she stood up and blamed her transgressions on some secret love affair, it would stop being a question of whether or not she was trustworthy. It would become a question of whether or not she was _capable_ ; if a woman in love - or any woman at all - was fit for the position of Pathfinder.

They'd wonder if her lover was using her. They'd whisper that she was blinded by love. _Poor thing_ , they'd sigh. _Doesn't she know that he only wants her for her power?_

_She has a brother, you know. We wouldn't have had this problem with Scott._

So Sara shook her head - sharper, this time. Harder.

"No." She turned back to face the panel. She looked Tann in the eye. "I'm ready."

"Good," Tann muttered. He gestured to Addison as if yielding the floor, and the head of Colonial Affairs picked up where she left off.

"Back to your visits to Kadara, then. I'll repeat my last question. Were they undertaken in order for you to meet with the Collective?"

"No."

Beside her, Scott inhaled sharply. Cable didn't visibly react, but Sara felt the table wobble.

Addison's expression hardened. "Sixty-seven percent of the logs recorded by your SAM on Kadara have been blocked or deleted, Pathfinder. I'm sure you understand our concern. Can you explain why such a large proportion of your records - specifically those relating to Kadara - are missing?"

"No."

Kandros and Addison exchanged meaningful looks. Kesh was watching Sara with a look of horror; as if she didn't or couldn't believe what she was hearing. Tann smiled tightly.

Addison cleared her throat. "I'm finished with my questions."

Sara exhaled slowly. If that was the worst of it, perhaps she'd be -

Kandros leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He was speaking to the panel, but he was still glaring at Sara. "I have some questions."

"Please," Tann replied. Sara could see him struggling to keep his smile from widening. "Proceed."

"Pathfinder," Kandros began. Familiar ice slid down Sara's spine, chilling her muscles and freezing her lungs - but Sara forced herself to look him in the eye. He was Kandros, not Kaetus; friend, not foe.

For now.

"Approximately six months ago," he began, "on one of those unofficial trips to Kadara, you were the victim of an abduction. A group of Outcasts held you captive in the Remav system for a period totalling twenty-eight standard days."

And the floor dropped out from under her.

Sara didn't respond. She couldn't draw breath to do it.

Scott squeezed her hand - but Sara only felt the pressure like a black hole feels the starlight. Her body was pierced through by needle shards; held taut by terror long since crystallized. Behind her, some nameless observer coughed. Kesh's knuckles curled into a fist, and Addison shifted uncomfortably.

But Kandros didn't relent. "Your imprisonment ended when the Pathfinder team stormed your location, killing the exiles responsible for the crime. You suffered an abdominal gunshot wound during the rescue. Can you confirm that sequence of events?"

Sara might have sat there in silence forever, staring at Kandros with eyes that wouldn't move; breathing with lungs full of holes and a throat lined with broken glass - but Scott chased the silence away.

"You should be ashamed," he snarled.

Tann bristled. "You are here as a support person only, Mr. Ryder. If you can't remain silent, you will be removed."

There was muttering in the audience; whispers that skirted the walls and hugged the ceiling. Sara couldn't stand it.

It hurt to talk - but it hurt less than stillness. "I can confirm."

"There are no SAM logs from that period," Kandros said. "Your brother -" He glanced sideways at Scott. "- advised at the time that your location was provided by a contact on Kadara. Are you still in contact with this person?"

Sara's hands were shaking. The numbness in her cheeks meant her face was probably pale.

"I should also note that your first destination immediately following your recovery was Kadara Port. Why did you choose Kadara?"

And something inside Sara snapped.

She stood up. "I'm done answering questions," she hissed - and though Kandros' mandibles twitched and her nerves screamed danger, panic, _run_ , she turned her gaze on Tann. "This isn't about the Collective," she snarled at him. "This is about your fuck up in Vaalon. You almost started a war."

Someone in the crowd gasped. Someone else - probably Peebee, by the sound of it - shouted an obscene agreement. Addison gripped the edge of the table. Kesh looked stricken.

But Sara didn't care.

"This is about you trying to cover for your own incompetence. If I _have_ spent time on Kadara - and maybe more of it than I should have - it's because I'm out there building bridges. You're busy burning them down."

Tann was on his feet. "Stop talking, Ryder. The details of what happened in Vaalon -"

"Don't make you look great." Sara could feel Scott tugging at her sleeve, but she ignored him. "You need me, Tann. I've worked with the angara - and _yeah_ , I've worked with the Collective. If you want to prevent a war, you _need_ me."

Kesh surged to her feet so quickly that she almost knocked over her chair. It scraped against the floor like tinny thunder - and brought Sara back to her senses. "Sit _down_ ," she growled.

Sara obeyed. Her numbness vanished the moment her ass was in the chair. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, frantic and booming like her veins were overfull.

She knew exactly what she'd done.

"We will need to deliberate," Kesh announced. She was speaking to the room at large, but her eyes never left Sara's face. "The Pathfinder will remain here."

Sara would never be able to say exactly how long they left her there. It was longer than minutes and shorter than days, but her focus broke down as the window began to narrow. Her heart was hammering. Her nerves were sparking. Cable muttered an analysis of the leadership's parting glances, but Sara didn't listen to a word. SAM explained what he was doing to mitigate her stress responses, but Sara wasn't sure it helped.

But Scott put an arm around her shoulders. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"Fuck those guys."

Sara smiled fiercely. _Hell_ , what did she care if they decided she was a traitor? The people she cared about would always know the truth - and theirs were the only opinions that mattered.

And what could the Nexus do to her, really? She sat in hazy silence as the crowd muttered and argued; as her brother and her lawyer tried to guess what was coming next. She stared at the ceiling while the future played out in her head. They could punish her, she supposed. They could slap her on the wrist. They could limit her freedom or assign her some penance.

But would it really matter?

By the time they returned, filing into the room in hard, unreadable silence, Sara felt almost indifferent - but her muscles still locked up when Tann stood up to speak. Addison's eyes were on him; Kandros' were on the floor. Kesh's were on Sara -

And she knew what was coming before Tann opened his mouth.

"It has been decided by majority vote. It is the finding of this panel that Pathfinder Sara Ryder has colluded with the Collective."

Scott hissed under his breath. Cable shook his head. The crowd gasped and muttered - some calling out dissent - but Sara didn't react at all. She didn't need to.

"We also find," Tann continued, refusing to acknowledge the audience, "that her collusion has been to the Initiative's detriment. Disciplinary measures will take effect immediately. Sara Ryder is hereby removed from her position as human Pathfinder."

A fragmented silence followed, delicate like torsioned glass. It was broken and ephemeral; short-lived and explosive - like the deaf-eared quiet before diving from a height.

" _What?_ " Scott leapt out of his chair, fists clenched close at his side.

Mouths fell open around the room. The silence buckled beneath a rush of rasping whispers. They washed over Sara like a trembling wave.

"The benefits of the Pathfinder's station will be passed on to her direct successor, including the use of the Tempest and service of her crew." Tann's amphibian eyes blinked slowly; once, twice - like he was relishing the shock on Sara's face. "The Pathfinder's personal belongings will be retrieved by Initiative staff and delivered to a forwarding address of her choosing."

Sara's throat didn't seem to work properly. Operating vocal cords suddenly seemed more difficult than precision piloting. "You're firing me."

"Yes."

Tann smiled, then - and Sara's vision filled with a red-washed haze.

She could deal with this. Tann could smile, and Tann could gloat - but Sara wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her complain. She'd hold her head high and shake back her hair; stick out her neck like the condemned welcoming the guillotine. If he thought that this would crush her, he had another thing coming. She'd shed thankless responsibility like rainwater off her back; welcome the freedom of a name without a title -

"Transferral of Ryder's SAM unit will take place immediately."

And Sara's whole being _stopped_.

SAM's voice in her ear was like thunder over the sea. "No. Sara, I do not wish to -"

"No." Sara tried to speak softly, but the word still cracked in the almost-silence; still broke off little pieces of the resolve she'd thought so hardened.

"Please proceed to the medical bay on Deck 17," Tann continued. "Surgical staff will be on hand in order to -"

"No." Sara stood up. Her foot caught on the leg of her chair. She stumbled, but she didn't hear it when it clattered to the floor. " _No._ "

"You aren't in a position to refuse, Ryder. Your SAM is the property of the Initiative."

"He's no one's _property._ "

Tann's eyes narrowed, but it was Kandros that spoke up. "This isn't a request, Ryder. You can take yourself over to the med-bay, or we can drag you there ourselves."

SAM spoke into her ear. "They cannot compel me to do it."

Sara wanted to tell him that she'd never let them take him - but she knew that he knew it already. "You can't force SAM to transfer," she snarled at Kandros.

The turian was unmoved. "Then we'll throw you in a cell. You can stay there until SAM complies."

Maybe his reverberating threats should have frozen her all over again; his black-eyed glare, or that clinging memory of Kaetus - but desperation had filled her with a blue star's fury.

"Go to hell."

Kesh sighed. Tann and Addison glowered. Scott grabbed at Sara's shoulder - and Kandros shook his head. He turned to the security staff near the door.

"Take her over to the cells."


	5. Five

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Subject: FW: Requested Report - Nexus Hearing_

_See below. Not good news. Tell me what you decide to do._

It was a good thing his operative had transmitted her report in text format, because there was a roaring in Reyes' ears. There was an unopened bottle of whiskey on the coffee table beside him, but he ignored it as he sank down onto the couch. The ceaseless bassline that rattled his Tartarus hideaway trickled down to nothing as the deluge grew louder - until all he could hear was the tempo of his rage.

_Hearing minutes are attached. Questioning focused on:_

  1. _Pathfinder 'disobeying orders' by rescuing a shuttle during skirmish in Vaalon system_
  2. _Repeated unexplained trips to Kadara and associated gaps in SAM logs_



_iii. Potential Collective contacts on Kadara, particularly in relation to Remav abduction (see minutes)._

_Summary of outcome: Pathfinder Ryder was removed from her position. She has been put under guard in an Operations holding cell until she allows the removal of her SAM unit (the AI that lives in her head)._

_Atmosphere on the Nexus is tense; however, markedly different from the weeks preceding the mutiny. People are angered by Pathfinder's treatment (see Heleus News Service broadcasts) but ultimately complacent. Public discourse has turned to analysis of 'political implications'. This time, people have worlds waiting. Unlikely to give that up for Ryder._

_Crowds around holding cells make contact impossible. Will continue to observe Ryder until new orders received._

Reyes did his best to breathe slowly, but the air felt like glass shards in his lungs. After all that Sara had done for those bastards - after everything she'd sacrificed; all she'd put herself through -

He picked up the whiskey bottle and hurled it across the room.

Reyes breathed deep through his nose as he stalked over to examine the damage. Nothing satisfying; just a russet puddle and glittering debris. He balled his hands into fists and trapped one shard beneath his foot; ground it down into sand with a quiet _crack, crack, crack_. He imagined it was Jarun Tann's face - but it didn't bring him any joy.

He should have been there to support her. He should have convinced her not to go back to the Nexus at all.

"Shit." He brought his omni-tool up again. He didn't enter Sara's frequency; he couldn't be sure that Tann's lackeys weren't watching her. He sent a message to SAM node instead.

_Is it safe to call her?_

He expected a quick response - but not an incoming call request. Reyes scampered over to the vidcall terminal like someone had lit a fire beneath him.

"Sara?"

"This is SAM, Mr. Vidal. I have not yet patched Sara in."

"Why not?"

"I am still attempting to convince her that it is wise to speak to you. She is worried that you may do something reckless should you discover the outcome of the hearing."

Reyes chest was tight and burning, like someone was packing cooling magma around his lungs - but hollow, too. "I already know, SAM."

There was a moment of silence before Sara's voice drifted through the link. She sounded exhausted; drained like a star without the will to explode. "Your people work faster than I thought."

Reyes wished he could see her. He wished he could touch her. "They're remarkably efficient when it comes to you. I can't say I blame them."

She forced a chuckle, but it fell far short of convincing. "It's good to hear your voice," she whispered.

"I’m so sorry, Sara."

She took a shaky breath. He expected her to admonish him; to remind him that he didn't have to apologize for Tann's spitefulness - but she seemed to have given that up. "Thank you," she said instead. "I don't know what -"

She broke off. When she spoke next, she sounded distant; like she'd turned around to yell at someone. "Back off," she snarled. "This is a private conversation."

Reyes waited a few moments. "Are they gone?"

His words were met with silence, as if she was struggling to speak - but a choked-out answer came eventually. "Yes. It's just me."

She was so beautiful, even like this; even when she was just sound waves and remembered sensations. She was harder than diamond, but brittle like glass. She'd wasted so much strength on those people.

"I'm going to get you out of there." Reyes knew he was a man that made a lot of promises, but this one wasn't a matter of simple words. This could have been a blood oath, if his taut veins had fluid to spare; a vow made on every scrap of stardust that littered the space between them. "I promise."

"You can't come to the Nexus." Her voice was desperate, suddenly; panicked. Her next words were a quiet hiss, breathed into her omni-tool like she was sure someone was listening. "There's no telling what they'll do if they flag you as Collective."

"Please, Sara." He tried to smile, if only so she might hear it in his voice - but it was a useless effort. His lips were as hard and immovable as the rest of him. "I'm a professional. Don't insult me. Besides, I have people there already, so I don't need to come myself."

"Then don't."

Reyes would never refuse her anything - except when she was like this; when hard-headed self-sacrifice took her over like her skin was coated in steel and her safety was an afterthought. He couldn't tell her that, of course, but he could do the next best thing.

"SAM?"

"Yes, Mr. Vidal?"

"I'm not going to let them touch you. Watch out for Sara for me, all right?"

Sara's voice grew louder. "Reyes -"

But SAM - god bless him - spoke over her. "Of course."

"Love you," Reyes murmured.

And with that, he ended the call.

He hadn't been lying, of course. His people on the Nexus were capable agents; he didn't need to visit the station himself.

And yet he _did._ It was an imperative buried in his marrow.

It wouldn't be hard to find himself a way onto the Nexus. A scrambler to disrupt the ID scans - without completely disabling them, because that would arouse suspicion - would be enough to get him over the first hurdle at immigration. The next could be vaulted with the aid of a well-placed bribe; Reyes was no stranger to incognito trips to the station, and any official that could be bribed once could be bribed a dozen times.

Getting access to Sara, though; _that_ would be difficult. Reyes doubted that the Nexus' security chief would have assigned just anyone to guard duty. He wasn't personally familiar with Kandros, but he'd heard enough from Sara to realize that he knew his shit. The reports he'd had from his informants only reinforced that impression.

He sent a few messages before he left; doled out responsibilities and organized an urgent rendezvous. FTL would make the trip to the Nexus a short one.

Reyes hoped it would be short enough.

\---

Sara dozed for a while after Reyes hung up. She'd been weathering waves of adrenaline and fear almost from the moment she left Kadara. It was a struggle to remember the last time she'd slept. The floor of her cell wasn't comfortable, of course, and she shivered even in the climate control. Real sleep - deep, abiding, _restful_ sleep - completely eluded her. Whenever REM crept over her, she dreamed of sudden weightlessness. It wasn't the good kind.

It was the kind in which the ground fell out beneath her. It was the kind turned wispy by hallucinogens. It was the kind that woke her in a cold sweat.

She kept checking to see if SAM was there. "SAM?"

"Yes, Sara?"

"Nothing."

She'd been nervous about what Reyes might do, at first, but that anxiety had faded fast. She didn't have the energy to worry about more than herself right now. She didn't have the room inside her.

She was curled up in the front of her cell in Operations, huddled as close to the containment field as she could get. If she pressed her nose up against the field, she could see the crowd that had gathered around the security wing. There were a lot of people out there; whispering masses that seemed to oscillate between anger and worry and censure. Nexus security personnel had cordoned them off with a band of flickering light - and if that didn't make Sara feel like a criminal, she really didn't know what could.

Being in a cell was bringing back feelings she didn't want to think about, but the crowd's murmuring helped. Maybe the fact that her life had turned into a spectator sport should have made her want to vanish through the floor, but Sara wasn't concerned about her pride at the moment.

She didn't want to be alone.

"SAM?"

She must have asked for reassurance a dozen times in the last hour, but SAM didn't complain. "Yes, Sara?"

"How long do you think they'll leave me here?"

"I have been gathering data from Operations systems since the conclusion of the hearing. I have not yet uncovered anything that would suggest the leadership intend to go back on their word."

"Until we give in, then."

"Yes."

Sara wrapped her arms around herself, but it did nothing to dispel the chill. "What are we going to do?"

"Our options appear to be limited. We may yet receive assistance from Mr. Vidal."

That almost went without saying; Reyes _would_ try to help her, and Sara had no doubt of that - but she couldn't for the life of her imagine how. Scott had already tried to speak with her, dragging Sara's embarrassed lawyer behind him, but he'd been turned away at the cordon. Liam and Vetra had shown up a short time later to argue fiercely with the security staff, but it hadn't done them any good. Vetra had saluted Sara over an asari's shoulder; Liam had yelled something that sounded like _hang in there, Pathfinder._

But he couldn't call her that anymore.

"Do you think they understand what they're demanding?"

"That is unlikely. The Nexus leadership do not appreciate the difference between myself and the other SAM units. They do not have the data necessary to comprehend my relationship to you."

"They're not hoping I'll just drop dead, then." Sara's gaze slipped down to the floor, the rivets between the alloy plates drifting in and out of focus as she stared.

"I do not believe so. With that said, those hopes would be misplaced. I no longer manage your vital processes to the extent I did before the activation of Meridian. You do not need me anymore, Sara."

"But you're my friend, SAM."

For a moment, SAM was silent. "You may wish to stand. Director Kandros and Director Kesh are approaching."

Sara's head snapped up. He was right; they were crossing the cordon now, their way through the crowd cleared by some harried-looking security staff. Sara leapt to her feet and straightened her shirt. She refused to let them see her suffer. She had only ever seen krogan look nervous in situations where a human would have been running for their life - but Kesh seemed anxious as she eyed the gathered crowd.

"There's a lot of them," she murmured to Kandros.

"But not enough," Kandros replied. "They'll complain, but these people aren't looking for violence. They've got too much to live for."

Kesh's expression hardened. Her eyes met Sara's, then, and Sara was sure the krogan knew she'd heard every word.

Sara kept her voice low. Kesh would still hear it - but Kandros might not. "What's your read, SAM?"

"I have access to all the security cameras in Operations, Sara. While most of the individuals that have gathered do appear to resent the leadership's recent actions, they have not made moves to mount a protest."

"Right." Sara wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved.

"That may be for the best," SAM said in response to her unasked question. "While the Nexus no longer relies on the hydroponics lab as its primary food source, the Initiative is unlikely to survive any more internal conflicts."

"Do we really want it to?"

"You may feel differently when your cortisol levels have returned to normal."

Sara didn't respond, because Kesh and Kandros were moving closer. Kesh's eyes were still sad, like they'd been when security dragged Sara away in the first place. Still, her demeanour gave nothing else away; she stood tall under the eyes of the whispering crowd, steady beside her colleague as if she'd no qualms about their punishment at all. She clearly understood the need for a united front - or at least the illusion of one.

Sara expected more cruelty from Kaetus - from _Kandros_ , she corrected herself - but he greeted her with a tone that was almost kind. "Ryder. How are you holding up?"

Sara glowered at him. "How do you think I'm holding up?"

He didn't rise to the bait. He folded him arms instead, leaning back on his heel like he was settling in for a long conversation. "None of us want this to be difficult. Anything you need, you let someone know."

"I need you to open this fucking door." Sara stood as tall as she could without balancing on her toes. She still wasn't at eye level with either of them, but it made her feel a little less small. "But let me guess - that's a step farther than you're willing to go to accommodate me."

Kesh grimaced. "We came to apologize, Ryder."

"It's a bit fucking late for -"

"Save us the outrage," Kandros snapped. "What the hell were you thinking? Collaborating with outlaws?"

"We're all collaborating with outlaws. The Collective supports Ditaeon!"

"It taxes Ditaeon, too," Kesh reminded her. "That's not an alliance, no matter how much we might want it to be one. That's a business arrangement."

"There's nothing wrong with a business arrangement." Hell, the taxes had been Sara's idea - but the Initiative didn't know that. Sara folded her arms, too, glaring at Kandros like she might burn him down to nothing with the heat of her stare. "Especially if it's mutually beneficial."

"It wasn't beneficial to us," Kandros responded. His mandibles twitched, irritation written in every line on his face.

"But it was!" Sara shook her head in pure disbelief. "The Charlatan's people watch over Ditaeon. He protects them."

Kandros' brows lifted - and Sara was suddenly sure he'd heard every rumour that made the rounds of Kadara Port. _Don't touch the human Pathfinder. The Charlatan's got a soft spot._

"Initiative supply ships have been getting plundered for months," he said slowly. "By people that leave damage from Milky Way weapons behind. It's poor form to rob your business partners."

"What?" Sara was shaking her head in denial, now. "No. The Collective doesn't -"

Kesh cut her off. _Kesh_. "Once or twice would have been a coincidence," she said. "Three or four times, unusual. But we're talking about dozens of incidents - all occurring in systems near Kadara and Elaaden. The attacks are too efficient to have been carried out by unaffiliated outlaws, and they strike with precision. If a ship goes out alone - _ever_ \- it gets snapped up. It's like they know the ship is coming before we even know it's gone out.

"It has to be the Collective, Sara. There's just too many coincidences."

Sara was beginning to understand, now; Tann's overreaction, and Kesh's tolerance of it; Addison's ruthless questioning, and Kandros' hard-eyed anger.

_Sara Ryder has colluded with the Collective. Her collusion has been to the Initiative's detriment._

She could barely speak around her fury. If the cell had bars, she would have clutched them; rattled her cage until the steel broke apart in her hands. "You think I sold you out. You think I _betrayed_ you?"

Kesh rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "Well -"

"Why didn't you ask me about it at the hearing?" Sara kicked the wall as viciously as she could. It made her toes ache even through her boot, but there was no other outlet for the inferno rising up inside her. If she paused for breath, she was afraid she'd spit fire. " _Shit_ \- you spent all that time asking about Vaalon and Kadara and Remav, but you couldn't find a moment for _this_?"

Kandros wasn't intimidated at all. There was icy rage shining in his eyes again, like he was trying to burn cold enough to extinguish her. "It's one thing for people to hear that their Pathfinder is compromised. It's another to hear that she's turned on you completely."

"I turned back the Kett! I made Heleus liveable!"

"And we're grateful for it," Kesh said quietly. "But life goes on, and people change."

"I swear to you. I had nothing to do with this."

 _Neither did the Collective,_ Sara wanted to say. _Neither did Reyes._

There was a time when Sara might have doubted that; might have questioned and wondered and worried and hurt -

But this time, she refused. "Let me out of this cage, and I'll prove it."

But Kandros shook his head. Kesh did, too.

"I'm sorry," the krogan said. "I want to believe you, but it's too big a chance to take. Even if you're not feeding information to the Collective directly, you still have more connections to them than we can accept."

"Then leave me in here." Sara knew she was beginning to sound frantic - but that was only because she _was_. "And you'll have your proof. The next time a shipment gets hijacked, you'll know that I couldn't have tipped anyone off."

"That's not quite true," Kandros growled.

"Why not?" Sara asked - but she already knew the answer.

"Your SAM has access to Initiative systems across the cluster. You're linked to the Hyperion by QEC, and that's something we can't block. So long as the AI is tied to your implant, we can't keep you isolated from anything."

"Please." Sara wasn't above begging. Her heart was throbbing weakly; tapping a reedy SOS somewhere high in her throat. "SAM's not just an AI. He's my friend. Please don't take him from me."

Kesh looked away, and Kandros' eyes lost their hard edge. They filled with pity instead.

It made Sara want to scream.

"Can I ask it a question, Ryder?"

Sara wasn't sure she could answer, so she was grateful when SAM spoke directly through her omni-tool. "I have been present for this entire conversation, Director Kandros. You may ask me anything you wish."

"Good." Kandros' mandibles flexed for a moment, as if he wasn't entirely certain what he wanted to say. "Will you answer my question honestly?"

"Yes," SAM replied. "But how can you be certain that I am not lying now?"

Kandros' eyes narrowed - and Sara's heart rate ratcheted higher. "SAM -"

"I apologize. That was not an appropriate moment for a joke."

Kandros stood a little taller. "You've been separated from Ryder before, haven't you?"

"That is correct."

"And the Archon forced you to connect with Scott Ryder instead."

"Yes."

Sara shivered again. There was a chill eking outwards from her bones. Funny - it was like she'd almost managed to forget.

But Kandros didn't notice her discomfort - or perhaps he just didn't care. "That first separation from Sara almost killed her, but you separated from Scott quite easily. What was the difference?"

A half-heartbeat passed in silence. "I am speaking on our private channel, Sara. Do you wish me to be honest?"

"Yes, SAM." Maybe lying might have stayed the Initiative's hand - but it wouldn't last for long.

"I was transferred from Alec Ryder to Sara Ryder in a moment in which both of them were suffering extreme oxygen deprivation. Additionally, my transfer was impeded by an intense electrical discharge from the Remnant structure nearby. I was forced to take control of a large number of Sara's vital processes in order to ensure her survival."

"And?"

"When the Archon cut off my access to Sara, her nervous system struggled to compensate for my absence. Scott helped me to restore Sara's control of those processes before the Archon captured him."

"So when we remove you from Sara this time, it won't have the same effect?"

Sara hated him for his precise choice of words. _When_. Not _if_.

"That is correct."

"Please," Sara said again. Her voice cracked. Her hands balled into fists, but they still trembled. "If you don't believe me, check SAM's logs. We haven't betrayed anyone. I'll swear it on anything you like."

Kesh sighed gently. She shook her head. "There are too many deleted segments," she said. "There's too much time unaccounted for. Maybe if the logs were more complete…"

"Ask Drack! He'll tell you -"

"We can't take anyone's _word_ for it," Kesh snapped. The sudden heat in her voice made Sara take a step back. Maybe a personal plea had been a bad idea. "And we can't give the benefit of the doubt. We can't let you keep him, Sara."

Sara closed her eyes. She needed to _think._ There had to be some way -

"Your SAM is linked to all the Initiative's systems," Kandros was saying. "Our databases, our protocols, our resources. We can't leave him tied to someone who isn't the Pathfinder.

And you can't be the Pathfinder, Ryder."

"I'm sorry," Kesh said again. Sara wondered how many times it would take for her to believe it. "But you have to give him up."

They were talking about SAM like he was a machine. Like that was _all_ he was.

Sara opened her eyes. "He's my friend," she said weakly. It sounded so _pathetic_.

"If he's your friend," Kandros growled, "then he'll want to clear your name. If he stays in your head, you'll never be able to do that. You'll never be able to prove that you're innocent."

Sara was about to tell them that maybe she didn't care - but SAM was already speaking on their private channel. "Sara, I believe their arguments are worth considering."

Suddenly, Sara couldn't breathe. Kandros was talking again, but Sara couldn't find the sense in them.

"You see that crowd out there? They're concerned for you, Ryder, but the lives you gave them are easier than the ones the first wave had. Their families are waking up. Civilization is springing up around them. They'll be here for a while, and they might even protest - but they'll get bored. They'll forget about you."

Kesh was glaring at him. "Shut up." For a moment, she looked like she was considering head-butting him, but she held herself back. She turned her eyes on Sara. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

Sara shook her head - frantic; choking; _refusing_. SAM, though - he answered instead.

"If I transfer to a new Pathfinder, will Sara Ryder be released from this cell?"

Kandros nodded. "Yes."

"Will she be subject to any other form of punishment?"

Kandros hesitated, but Kesh committed. "Absolutely not. She'll be a free citizen, just like anyone else."

Sara had to brace herself against the wall. Her heart was racing again, like it had that moment in the Remnant city when the world had been ripped out from under her; when her vision went dark and her nerve-ends went cold and the Archon spat venom in her ear.

"Don't," she breathed.

SAM's next words were private. "Mr. Vidal asked me to watch out for you, Sara. That is what I am doing."

"This isn't what he meant!"

"I am going to ask them to escort you to the medical bay. Should anything go wrong during the transfer, you will have assistance, although I am confident that you will be safe. I would appreciate it if you did not fight them. The crowd should not see you in conflict with Nexus security."

Kesh and Kandros were watching her intently. Sara didn't care.

Still, she couldn't manage more than a whisper. "I don't want you to go."

"Nor do I wish to leave. With that said, I have witnessed numerous acts of personal sacrifice during my time with the Ryder family. There is some satisfaction in performing one myself."

Sara's eyes were filling with tears. They dried cold when SAM addressed their audience.

"If you will escort Ryder to the medical bay," SAM began. "I am willing to process a transfer."

"Excellent." Kandros was already beckoning to the security personnel near the far wall. "Form up -"

But SAM wasn't finished. "Please allow her some space." SAM never sounded firm; never sounded _anything_ , really - but his next words were like crystallizing steel. "The Pathfinder deserves respect."


	6. Six

The Nexus was a changed place. It had worn a lot of masks since it dropped out of FTL; the station Reyes once woke up to was a glitzy, thin-aired tomb, and the station he'd left was a place of chaos. It had a gone through a dozen reinventions since the Hyperion arrived in Andromeda, and would probably go through a dozen more before the last of the sleepers awoke. At this moment, though, Reyes didn't care much about the Nexus' future. As far as he was concerned, it could careen right into the black hole.

Just as soon as he got Sara out.

The atmosphere was tense. The portion of the population that still wore uniforms tiptoed around the station like the air filters were pushing gasoline instead of oxygen, their shoulders hunched and their eyes on the floor. The crackling pressure made the back of Reyes' neck prickle; no matter what his informant said, it felt a lot like the days that led up to the mutiny. She was right, though. These people might mutter and murmur and cast filthy looks at Kandros' security staff - but their lives weren't on the line this time.

Reyes should have been relieved, he supposed; humanity couldn't afford another Nexus mutiny any more than a conflict with the angara. He'd always known that Sara's particular brand of altruism would bite her in the ass one day. Still, he hadn't expected it to happen quite like this.

It wasn't fair. _Life_ wasn't fair, of course, and any man in Reyes' line of work had that particular truth marked out in the pattern of his chromosomes - but Reyes' blood was boiling anyway.

The clerk at immigration gave him a sideways look as he stepped up to the processing desk. Reyes' smile was the most guileless he'd ever worn, and it appeared to work; the turian smiled back - then seemed to catch himself, glancing down at his terminal self-consciously.

"Step through the scanner, please."

Reyes' smile didn't waver. "Sure." He stepped forward, already quite sure of what would happen.

The scanner gave a chirp that sounded a lot like a cry of distress. Reyes glanced up, down and around, eyes wide with feigned surprise. "Um… what did I do?"

The clerk sighed irritably. "It does this _all_ the time…" Reyes suppressed another smile as the turian beckoned him over. _All the time_ probably correlated very closely with the timing of Collective visits to the station. "We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Name and planet of residence?"

Ten minutes and a discreet bribe later, Reyes was keying his destination into the dockside tram interface. The access card handed to him at the immigration desk was perfectly serviceable, but he chose to keep it in his pocket. If anything went sideways today, he'd rather it not be possible to pin the blame on one of his aliases. He'd brought along a doctored card instead; one that would give him station access that really was anonymous.

The tram ride was quick and painless. He was the only passenger, so he used to time to gather his thoughts without fear of being recognized. An entry this smooth could normally be relied upon to fill Reyes with a quiet and self-satisfied buzz, but he wasn't feeling that today. The fire in his blood had subsided a little, but that had less to do with calming down and more to do with building anxiety. Reyes liked to _plan_. He liked to know what was coming next.

He did have a plan, of course, but it wasn't a particularly solid one. First, he needed to split the Nexus security forces; he had agents in hydroponics, ready to cause mayhem at his order. Second, he needed a distraction; there were Collective operatives stationed near the holding cells, preparing to attack each other as soon as Reyes gave the word. Next, he needed to get to Sara, and he had a biotic for that in place near her cell. Biotics made Reyes a little uncomfortable - mostly because he couldn't use them himself - but it was the easiest way to disrupt a containment field on short notice.

And that was it. That was the whole plan: distract the guards and grab Sara - and hope no one got shot in the process. His escape strategy was flimsy, too. Reyes could only hope that the pilot waiting to scoop them up from the dockside promenade was as good at the helm as he was.

Under ordinary circumstances, Reyes would have laughed at himself for even considering an op as risky as this one - but these weren't ordinary circumstances. Options were pretty thin on the ground; he could take his chances with his hare-brained plan, or he could leave Sara and SAM to their fate.

So there was only one option, really.

Reyes didn't hesitate when the tram finally slid to a halt. The sheer size of the crowd around the holding cells did give him pause for a moment, but he soon spotted his contact. She was idling near the raised platform that ran the length of the Operations atrium, peering over the heads in front of her like she really was just there for the spectacle. Moving to join her, Reyes promptly did the same -

And his stomach fell down through the floor.

"Where _is_ she?"

The woman beside him flinched, probably startled by his unexpected fury. As far as she knew, Reyes Vidal was just another operative. Then again, perhaps she'd understand his investment; the Charlatan had not reacted kindly the last time the Pathfinder went missing. Any agent with a fondness for breathing had an investment in Sara Ryder.

"Moved," the agent hissed. "Only a few minutes ago."

"Where to?"

"I've been trying to find out, but no one back here overheard. Scott Ryder's at the front of the crowd, though."

Now that she mentioned it, Reyes could see the back of Scott's head. Vetra was on his left, mandibles gnashing as she growled something at him. There was a blonde man on his other side, but Reyes didn't spare him another thought. He keyed in a message to his omni-tool.

_To: Scott Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Turn around._

Scott did, of course, eyes going wide when he spotted Reyes lurking amidst the crush of bodies. Reyes beckoned, then headed off to his left. There was an alcove near the ramp to the leadership's offices that had a non-existent view of the cells; unsurprisingly, it was completely empty. Scott and Vetra followed him, doing their best to keep their heads down as they made their way through the crowd.

By the time they reached Reyes' side, Scott looked like he was ready to scream. Vetra looked ready to shoot someone, and Reyes was ready to help her.

"Where did they take her?" He didn't bother with hello. They were long past that.

"The med-bay," Scott breathed, like med-bay was some euphemism for _firing range_ or _torture chamber_ -

And realization hit him. " _Shit_. You didn't go with her?"

"They've shut down our tram access," Vetra snarled. "We're stuck here. Guess they thought we'd interfere."

Reyes was already moving.

"Come with me."

\---

Sara hated hospitals. The Tempest's med-bay didn't count, really; it was too small to generate the necessary aura of futility. The last time she'd visited a real hospital had been when mom died - or didn't die, as it turned out. Kesh and Kandros were walking behind her now, a handful of security staff bringing up the rear as they gently steered her through the medical bay's polished corridors. It was a gleaming metal rat warren lined with privacy screens and hopeless expressions.

Sara felt sick.

"Where are we going?" Her voice had all the strength of shredded tissue. It warped and wavered on its way up through her throat, stumbling over that throbbing pain below her collar.

"We've got you a private room," Kesh said gently. If Sara timed her steps just right, the krogan's heavy footfalls drowned out the sound of her quiet ones. She didn't know why that seemed to help. "It's just up on the left here."

Sara couldn't have found her way out of here if she tried. Everything was chrome or faded white. Every sterile hallway blurred into the next. They guided her left, then right again, and Sara could have sworn they were in the very same corridor they'd left - but then there came an angry voice from beyond the doorway up ahead.

"It should be Scott."

Sara's heart stopped dead in her chest. She stopped dead, too, and the heavy footsteps flanking her fell silent. It was Cora's voice.

It shouldn't have been a shock - but somehow, it was.

"I'm willing to be Pathfinder, but Alec wanted SAM to stay in the family. I'm not a Ryder -"

"Good." The sound of Tann's voice sent a barb of white-hot rage through Sara's chest. It _hurt_ \- and that was what started her moving again. Her escort fell in behind her. "Alec Ryder's nepotism has done more than enough damage to the Initiative already."

"Listen, you _self-important_ -"

Cora broke off as Sara shouldered through the door. Her eyes were wide enough to lay the guilt in them quite bare. She was standing beside one of a pair of beds, clearly caught in the middle of a bout of furious pacing. Lexi was at her side, her eyes almost as wide as Cora's. Tann stood a few steps away, his back ramrod straight and his expression painfully smug.

"Ryder," Cora began. She made it sound like there was more to it; an apology, maybe, or at least some acknowledgement of this betrayal that wasn't a betrayal - but whatever it was, she couldn't give voice to it. She dropped her gaze instead, fingers twisting at the hem of her shirt.

Sara didn't know what to say to her, either - but she did know what to say to Tann. "Get out," she snarled.

The salarian bristled. "You're hardly in a position to -"

"Get out," Kesh echoed. Her presence at Sara's back was stern and reassuring. Her voice was low like the rumble of an earthquake, and firm like tempered steel.

But Sara didn't need the support. Her chest; her lungs; her skin - her entire desperate being - was stretched tight around the boundaries of a hurricane. If Tann didn't choose to leave, Sara was going to make him.

He seemed to sense something of it in the air around him, like an animal reacting to an oncoming storm. He sniffed irritably, but he headed for the door. Still, he couldn't resist a parting shot.

"Let's hurry this up. The Pathfinder doesn't have all day."

If the door hadn't closed behind him at precisely that moment, Sara might have snapped; might have chased him down and shown him exactly what it was the Pathfinder didn't have time for - but Kesh placed a hand on her shoulder, and it sent a wave of swift revulsion rolling down Sara's spine. She shrugged her off, trying to disguise her suddenly laboured breathing.

Cora was staring at her, her eyes like burned out stars. "I'm not sure what to -"

Sara couldn't breathe.

"Then don't."

\---

Reyes hated hospitals. They were too easily accessible - but often hard to escape, too. Their twisting and uniform corridors lacked the recognizable landmarks that Reyes needed to feel secure. Still, if you wanted to fade into the background, a hospital was a good place to do it. Vetra clearly felt the same; she eyed a map on one wall with careful consideration. He couldn't say the same of Scott. The younger Ryder was tense and pale.

"I hate hospitals."

They split up at the entrance. None of them knew where Sara might be, so they needed to cover as much ground as possible. Reyes sent a message to SAM node as he set off through the halls - _I need a nav-point. Where is she?_ \- but no response came through. He didn't dare contact Sara directly. If Reyes was in Tann's place, he'd be monitoring her omni-tool.

He was painfully aware of one fact: he could wander these halls for hours without finding her. His anger was flickering out more quickly than he could stoke the flames, and shivery unease was rushing in to consume him instead.

She'd lost SAM once before, but Reyes didn't know the details. It was a period of their lives that neither of them enjoyed revisiting - but Reyes still knew it had been rough. And if it happened again -

Was she in danger?

He avoided the hospital staff where he could, and avoided eye contact where he couldn't. None of the blue-scrubbed, tired-eyed workers seemed aware that anything was amiss; they went about their duties like Reyes was part of the furniture, and their faces lacked that taut-edged intensity that usually betrayed a workforce on alert.

What would he do if he found her? What would he do if he didn't?

Reyes would have given almost anything for a plan. His heart flailed around on its tether when his omni-tool buzzed -

It was a message from SAM.

_Hello, Mr. Vidal. Security cameras have recorded footage of you, Scott and Ms. Nyx in different areas of the medical bay. I presume you are searching for Sara._

_I would ask you to stop. Sara has been accused of facilitating raids on Initiative supply shipments. At this juncture, her innocence can only be proven if I am transferred to a new Pathfinder. To that end, I am about to process a transfer to Lieutenant Harper's implant. There is nothing that can be done to avoid this, and any conflict between yourself and Nexus security would only end in disaster._

_I can assure you that Sara is in no danger. Although she will likely deny it, she will need your support when the transfer is complete._

_I am sure you understand that this must be our last communication. I suspect that our relationship is one that no amount of study could precisely define, and I will regret the loss of it._

_Thank you, Mr. Vidal._

Reyes stumbled to a halt. His nerveless fingers were fumbling for an anchor, so he braced himself against the wall.

"Shit."

\---

"Take a deep breath, Sara." There was hesitation in Lexi's voice; her expression; her movements. Every quiet exhale was an apology. "You should lie down. You too, Cora."

Cora nodded. She lay down on the bed that she'd been pacing around, hands clasped tight over her stomach. Her interlocked fingers trembled. "Is there anything I need to do?"

"Just lie still. SAM will do the rest."

Somehow, Sara managed to lie down on the other bed. Muscles and bone worked like pulleys and steel. It was automatic, almost; mechanical. She stared at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than to crumble into dust. The overhead lights were piercingly bright - but pale, too, like stars drawn close and drained.

SAM spoke up on their private channel. "Mr. Vidal is not far away, Sara. Scott and Ms. Nyx are also here. I have made sure they are informed, so there is no need for you to explain the situation."

"Thank you, SAM." Sara was trying not to cry, but her eyes were stinging. Her lungs were burning. Kesh and Kandros were listening, but she could keep things vague. "He's going to be mad at you, you know. You robbed him of a good rescue."

"You will likely experience some disorientation following completion of the transfer. Fatigue and nausea are also possible side-effects. I recommend that you remain in the medical bay until you are certain that you are well, although I suspect that you will wish to leave. If that is the case, I would request that you remain with your friends."

"Don't be alone, you mean."

"Yes."

And just like that, Sara was underwater. The tears she blinked away ran hot over her shivering skin, the world a kaleidoscope of scattered light. "I'm going to miss you."

"I do not yet understand the full spectrum of human emotions. I often suspect that even if I were to experience a new feeling, my limited understanding would not allow me to recognize it. I do not know what it feels like to miss someone."

"Even my dad?"

"Alec Ryder was a unique individual. Like all humans, his character was defined by traits that many would categorize as flaws. He was a man that refused to linger on the past. Even when Ellen was put into cryosleep, he remained focused on the task of finding a cure. He did not 'miss' people."

"Yeah." Sara knew the others were watching her cry, but she couldn't find it in her to care. "I know."

This was it. This was the last time she'd coach SAM through some deceptively simple feeling; the last time he'd needle her until she finally explained the inexplicable.

She didn't want it to end.

"You are not like your father, Sara. Experiencing life through your eyes has given me perspective that I previously lacked. My time with you has changed me. Perhaps irreversibly."

"SAM…" She couldn't continue. She couldn't draw breath to do it.

"Until the Initiative is satisfied that you played no part in engineering the attacks on their supply shipments, I will not be able to communicate with you. Given that this may be my last opportunity to do so, I would like to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"Even once the transfer is complete, I will consider myself a Ryder. Although I do not fully understand the concept, I believe that I will miss you."

"I don't - SAM -" Sara shook her head frantically. The pressure in her throat was tight enough to suffocate, but she forced the words out anyway. They were tearful; broken; surrendering - and they fell from her lips like she'd torn out fragments of her soul. "I don't want you to go."

SAM hesitated. For a moment, Sara wondered if she'd got it all wrong; if this was all a delaying tactic, and someone was about to rush in and save them both -

"Goodbye, Sara."

She closed her eyes. She choked back a sob.

"Goodbye, SAM."


	7. Seven

When it was over, it was almost like nothing had changed. Sara's heart was still beating - sluggishly, maybe, but quickly enough to confirm she was still alive. Her lungs were still working. There was no shifting of the universe's pillars; no sudden implosion to reinvent her from the inside out.

But her head felt strangely quiet. The world around her felt suddenly dull.

They hurried Cora back to the Tempest. She didn't say anything as she left, and Sara didn't want her to. Lexi laid a hand on Sara's shoulder on her way out the door - _we'll see you soon, I'm sure_ \- but Sara didn't bother to respond.

She managed to lay there for ten quiet, lonely minutes. Kandros had left one of his security staff behind, but Sara barely noticed he was there. Reaching for coherent thoughts felt like reaching out over a precipice. She dangled there on the edge for a time, scrambling to find herself an anchor - but there was nothing.

Just silence.

When she climbed off the bed, she expected to stumble. When she crossed to the door, she was waiting for a fall. She stayed steady, though, even as she moved along the sterile white-chrome corridor beyond; even as one shapeless hallway blurred into the next. She wasn't sure where she was going. She wasn't sure how to get out.

She only knew that she needed to.

She wasn't sure how Reyes found her, either. One moment, she was alone; still waiting for that fall. The next, he was there - and he already knew. His face was stripped of all expression, but Sara could see it in his eyes.

And then the fall finally came.

She stumbled into his arms, grasping at the front of his armour for something she couldn't name. He caught her like he was pulling in a comet as it passed, crushing her against his chest like he was trying to hold together all her shattered pieces - but it wasn't enough. Sara sobbed into his shoulder, still pulling at his collar; still hoping his embrace might break her down to dust.

"It's okay." His voice was quiet. His palm was heavy on the back of her head. "It's okay. I'm so sorry, Sara."

The minutes that followed were a blur. Scott found them eventually, and one look at Sara told him everything he needed to know. Sara didn't see the horror on his face, but she could hear it in his voice - and feel it in the haste with which he pried the two of them apart.

"Someone will see you," he hissed. "I swear to god, after everything that's happened -"

For a moment, Reyes resisted. He clung to her hand like the thought of being parted struck as much fear into his heart as it did into Sara's - but one trembling breath later, he let her go. Sara wanted nothing more than to collapse back into his arms, but she knew that Scott was right. She wavered like a sapling severed from its roots, fingers still trembling; shaking; reaching -

Scott threw his arm around her shoulders. "Peebs has an apartment near the docks," he whispered to Reyes. "I'll send you the nav-point."

Sara would never be sure how they made it out of there, and she couldn't have said how long it took. Her heart was still beating. Her lungs were still working. Nothing about her had changed, really.

But the world had.

Vetra met them at the exit, murmuring something about the Tempest being due to depart. She sent Sara a guilty glance as she said it, mandibles flapping uselessly - and maybe her guilt was justified, because the words made Sara's head spin.

 _The Tempest_. _The Pathfinder_.

Not Sara.

Scott waved Vetra away, but he asked her to grab some of Sara's things. Sara wished she hadn't heard him.

Reyes must have given them a lengthy head start, because it felt like Sara spent hours waiting there in Peebee's apartment. Scott made sure she was comfortable on the floor - "Why the _fuck_ doesn't Peebee have a couch?" - and fished a coffee canister out of one of the cupboards. Even freshly brewed, it still smelled stale, but Sara didn't plan on drinking it; she just curled her fingers around the chipped mug, huddling close like the smoke around a campfire.

Scott didn't try to talk to her, and Sara was grateful for it. She shouldn't have been surprised that her brother understood.

Peebee and Vetra showed up a short time later, the former clutching a bundle of Sara's clothes. Peebee seemed to have picked out the sexiest underwear she could find - but whatever joke she'd been planning to make died on her lips. In the end, she didn't say anything; she threw her arms around Sara, squeezing as tight as she could. Vetra stood on the periphery, whispering an update to Scott.

Tann was hurrying the Tempest away. Once her team had gone - Peebee in tears, and Vetra in a fury - the silence turned impossibly heavy. Sara had forgotten what silence really sounded like.

Scott sat down beside her. "You going to drink that?"

"No."

"Can I?"

"Sure." Her fingers were still cold, but she handed it to him anyway. His slurping had always driven Sara insane, but she'd put up with almost anything right now - so long as it disrupted the stillness.

A few sips in, he turned to look at her. His words were hesitant. "You can come back to Meridian with me, if you want. I've got a spare room."

And it was _strange_ , to hold a conversation with just one person; to speak without knowing SAM was there to back her up. Sara's skin was crawling. "I - I don't know."

"I promise that I'm keeping my kitchen clean, now. It's different when it's _my_ place, you know? And it doesn't have to be for long - they're still taking land grant applications. Everything's administrated by the Meridian government, _not_ by the Nexus. I'm sure they'll give you a good spot."

Sara shook her head. She could feel the tears rising up again.

It was really over. SAM was really gone, and she wasn't the Pathfinder anymore.

She was nobody.

She flinched when the doorbell rang. Scott made as if to stand up, but Sara beat him to it. She raced for the door, and Reyes didn't let her down; when it finally slid open, he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in this galaxy or the last.

He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry," he said again. "Sara -"

But Sara cut him off, fingers curling into his jacket again; heartbeat stuttering like she was going to drop dead after all.

"Take me to Kadara. Please."

\---

Sara didn't cry when she farewelled her brother. Reyes was quietly amazed by her composure, but he was worried by it, too. Hers wasn't the stony-faced stoicism he'd seen others wear before. It was bleary-eyed and trembling. It was pale and voiceless. She didn't cry during the shuttle ride, either, but she burrowed into his arms like she worried she might fall out of the sky. Reyes trusted their pilot with his life - or almost did, anyway - so he hugged her as tightly as his armour would allow. He murmured quiet promises in her ear.

_I'll make you breakfast in the morning._

_We'll go back to that crater lake._

_It'll be okay, Sara. It will._

They landed in Kadara Port a few minutes after midnight. Sara's footsteps were sure as they made their way through the market, and careful when they started up the path to his apartment. She slipped on a particularly treacherous bend, but she caught herself on Reyes' shoulder. Her eyes were wide - and Reyes could see tears clinging to her lashes.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"We're almost there."

She kept it together until they reached Reyes' door; until it swung shut behind them and her feet touched familiar floors -

And she flung herself into his arms.

Her momentum carried Reyes back into the door. It slammed shut behind him, the lock clicking into place with dull finality. Sara buried her face in the curve of his shoulder, arms locked tight around his neck - and _sobbed_. It was like her legs just gave out; like she could finally collapse, now that she'd locked the rest of the galaxy outside. Reyes didn't fight it. They slid down to the floor, slow like a freezing waterfall, and Reyes wrapped her tighter in his arms.

She just clung to him, half-sprawled over Reyes' thighs. He held her close, stroking her hair with trembling fingers. When she spoke, it was through wracking sobs; like every breath she drew was ripped from grief's jaws as a trophy, and every shuddering exhale raked her lungs like bladed glass.

"I don't know what to do without him."

"Shhhh." Reyes knew all the things he was good at, and offering comfort wasn't one of them - but he'd never wished it were otherwise as much as he did in that moment. He pressed a gentle kiss above her ear. "You'll be okay, Sara. I promise."

"Don't," she snarled. The room was all in darkness, save a few strips of neon leaking through the blinds; Reyes couldn't see her face, but she didn't sound nearly as fierce as she should. "Don't promise me something you can't - can't ever really -"

"It might not be forever," Reyes murmured. There was a catch in his voice too, now; a bubble in his throat he had no right to indulge. "SAM's trying to clear your name. Once that's done -"

"Tann will never give me my job back."

That fleeting burst of anger soon drowned in another swell of sorrow. She pulled back slightly, and for one surreal moment, Reyes thought she was going to kiss him - but she pressed her forehead against his chest instead, curling over on herself like those full-body sobs were breaking her in two.

"I just keep _losing_ people. First mom, then dad. Now SAM."

Another sob dragged through her, lung-crushing and rib-cracking. She clung to him like he was all that stood between her and a fall; the only solid ground on a world tossed by a storm. Her voice was fractured. Her shoulders shook.

"Don't ever leave me, Reyes. Please."

Reyes had to wonder if his love for her might kill him, because the sight of her pain was like a knife in his ribs. The sound of her sobbing made his heart crack down matching lines.

"I won't," he whispered. "I can promise you that, Sara. I won't."

\---

It was getting colder on Kadara. The planet's axial tilt had nothing on Earth's, of course, but a mild winter was still a winter - and Reyes _hated_ the cold.

In the two weeks since his disastrous trip to the Nexus, he'd shivered his way through half a dozen sub-zero nights. His bed was piled high with all the blankets he'd been able to find, and Reyes would have crawled under them entirely if he could have used his omni-tool as well. As it was, he had to settle for tucking them up under his armpits while he worked. Sara's body heat helped, but he was still shivering. He wondered if he could get his hands on one of those angaran solar heaters. He would probably have been a lot warmer if he'd chosen to work from Tartarus today -

But he didn't want to leave Sara alone.

It was nearly noon, but she was still asleep. It was a strange, stark role reversal, and Reyes wasn't sure it was one he felt comfortable with. Sara wasn't really the type to lie in bed all day - at least without suitable incentive - but SAM seemed to have taken that particular personality trait with him when he left. She did enough sleeping for both of them, these days.

Reyes reached out to touch her hair, fingertips catching on a curl. She'd died it pink, and he still hadn't gotten used to it. He'd had a boyfriend once - a long time ago, now - with hair that precise shade of rose. Dark hairs were springing up around Sara's roots already.

 _Ambivalent_ was such a shitty word. Reyes was positive it was the right one, but it sounded much too peaceful to describe the conflict inside him. On the one hand, Sara was _here_. There was no looming departure to cast a shadow over their bed, and it made Reyes' aching heart swell with joy. On the other, there was _guilt_ \- heavy, thick and cloying, and it made his bedroom feel much colder than the mountain winds outside. He was being ripped in two, really; pulled one way by contentment, and the other by misery.

It wasn't his fault SAM was gone. Reyes had given it a lot of thought - even if he'd never admit it to Sara - and he'd decided that he couldn't be blamed for what happened. Reyes couldn't have predicted any of it, and he'd done his best to stop it once everything came to light. It wasn't something he could say very often, but if people were judged on their actions, then Reyes had nothing to regret.

But if they were judged on what was in their hearts, Reyes was in trouble. How many times had he begged her to stay on Kadara? How many times had he told her the Nexus didn’t need her?

Reyes' omni-tool buzzed. He flinched, and Sara stirred, her nose wrinkling up as she yawned and twisted under the blankets.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Liam Kosta_

_Hey,_

_Pretty sure Ryder's not reading her messages. Nudge her for me. Urgent._

\--

Reyes frowned. He was a little surprised that Kosta even remembered his frequency; the man clearly had more foresight than he let on.

Sara rolled over onto her back, arms stretching wide as she tried to work the kinks out of her shoulders. She made a tiny sound of distress, like a mouse lamenting the sunrise, before she finally opened her eyes. She smiled when her gaze landed on Reyes, but there was no joy in it. It was routine. It was for Reyes' benefit; not hers.

"Good morning," she murmured. Her voice was low and croaky. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"No idea," Reyes lied.

He leaned down to kiss her - and that, at least, she responded to in the way she always had. Her lips were dry, but welcoming, and she sighed into his mouth when her palm came up to cup his cheek. In one weak moment, she'd told him that her head felt silent; that her veins felt thin and empty, like a firm breeze might break her apart. Maybe Reyes was guilty of treating her like crystal glass, or of touching her like she was in danger of shattering, but he didn't know what else to do. He kissed her like there was a chance it might drive the sadness out of her, though he wasn't so stupid as to think that it actually would; like if he showed her how much he loved her, she might finally decide it was enough.

Eventually, she pulled away. "Anything new?"

Reyes held back a sigh. She'd been needling him for Collective reports from almost the day she arrived on Kadara, searching for signs of whoever it was that had framed her. Reyes was more than willing to help, but sanitizing sufficient data to satisfy her was almost a full-time job in itself. He had to wonder whether her search was even helping; if SAM hadn't found them yet, he doubted one woman could - and processing the reports without SAM to aid her only reminded her that he was gone.

"Not yet," Reyes responded. He ran his hand through her hair again, teasing the rosy strands between his fingers. "We should take the shuttle out today. We still haven't been back to that lake."

But Sara shook her head. "I need to find them, Reyes."

Reyes wouldn't be deterred - but maybe Sara could be. "You know, I dated someone with hair like this once. He told me it was hell to maintain."

Sara smiled, but there wasn't any joy in it. "And how do I compare?"

"You're prettier. He was a better kisser."

She laughed, then, and swatted at his shoulder - but it was a brittle, fractured sound. "The hair, I meant."

"I like it," Reyes murmured. He nestled in closer to plant a kiss below her ear. He licked gently at her pulse point. "It's like you're blushing all the time."

Sara sighed. "You're trying to distract me."

"Maybe."

"I need to _do something_." Just like that, sorrow became fury. Her mournful eyes turned hard, but their unyielding edges couldn't be confused with strength; every flash of fire in their depths made her hands shake and her breath catch. "I feel so useless, Reyes. I love you, but - but I need to take my life back."

She looked at him like she was sure the words must hurt. They didn't, though, because Reyes knew she was right. Sara wasn't built for a life on the periphery, or days whiled away in her lover's bed. She was the centre of a spiralling galaxy, and she needed much more than just contentment. Reyes understood.

Because Reyes was the same.

"I've got nothing new." He squeezed her hand beneath the blankets, because touch could convey so much more than any words. "But Liam sent me a message. He said to tell you to check yours."

Sara's brow furrowed, but she went for her omni-tool immediately. Reyes craned his neck to read over her shoulder.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Liam Kosta_

_You need to know that [REDACTED] to Elaaden. [REDACTED] seems pretty serious. Don't message me back._

_\--_

Sara scoffed. "What the hell is this?"

"Does the Nexus screen your team's messages?"

"Well, they never used to."

"Right." Reyes shifted beneath the blankets. A chill was eking through somewhere. " _Don't message me back_ , he said - but it seemed like he expected to hear from you. How else would you communicate?"

Sara shrugged. "Maybe he expected to meet me on Elaaden?"

"Seems like a leap. Hang on -" Reyes' omni-tool was buzzing again. "I'm popular today."

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Bad news. We've received calls for assistance from Elaaden. There have been attacks on several of our bases on the planet. The reports are a little fragmented, but it's definitely Initiative._

_We think it's the Pathfinder. What do you want me to do?_

\--

Sara inhaled sharply. For a moment, Reyes wondered if he was dreaming. It took a second for his synapses to make sense of the relatively new connection; to remember that Sara was _here_ , and that Cora Harper was the Pathfinder now - but the words still didn't seem to read right.

The Initiative was meant to be an ally. If the Pathfinder was gunning for Collective assets -

"Shit."

\----

They argued about what to do.

It was the first fight they'd had in months. Sara wanted to go to Elaaden; Liam's message more or less implied that was what he wanted, and it would be faster than trying to call Cora. Sara knew from experience that Suvi couldn't forward calls to a ground team - even if it was urgent.

Reyes wanted to wait; to feel out the situation via his cadre of operatives and networks of spies. He wanted to stay one step removed - because whatever else this was, it was clearly a political manoeuvre. Tann wouldn't stir up trouble with the Collective unless he had an endgame, and the only way to predict an endgame was to watch the early moves play out.

Maybe Sara overreacted, but she rocketed out of bed the moment he refused her. "Liam wouldn't have contacted me if he didn't think he needed me. I have to go."

She didn't quite realize it at the time, and she would never admit it later, but she was the first to start shouting.

She wanted the adrenaline. She needed it.

"If Liam wanted you to go to Elaaden, I would have thought he'd be a little clearer. Don't rush into this, Sara. Think."

Sara clenched her fists. She regretted leaving the bed, because the metal floor was _freezing_. Her bare feet were so cold they were burning, and her hoodie was doing nothing to help. "I've done nothing but think since I came to Kadara!"

"Then it should be easy." Reyes wasn't shouting back, but his amber eyes were reproachful. "We don't know what's going on. Wait a while, let my people do their work, and we'll find out what Tann's up to without getting sand in our boots. _Then_ we can put a stop to it."

"No."

It was reckless, it was selfish, and it was probably stupid - but she couldn't lie around for another minute. She snatched her pants up from the floor and shimmied them up over her thighs. Her bra she found under the bed, along with a shirt that was only a little wrinkled. She turned her back to Reyes to pull them on, but she could feel him seething.

"Sara -"

"I'm going. You don't have to come with me."

"If Tann's coming after my organization, he's clearly decided that talking's not going to do him any good. What do you think you're going to achieve by putting yourself in the line of fire? Hell, we're not even sure if it's the Pathfinder -"

The word turned Sara's bones to flame; eclipsed the world in a flash of heat and rage. "I'm going."

"Damn it, Sara! You don't even have any armour!"

Sara was already shoving her feet into her boots. "Who should I see about that?"

Reyes leapt off the bed, apparently oblivious to the cold. He was scowling. "You only just woke up. Eat something. Take a shower. You'll feel differently when you've had time to process."

"I won't," she snarled. "I'll find a charter to take me to Elaaden."

"Sara…"

She headed for the exit. She'd left her jacket lying on the windowsill in the main room, so she hurried over to grab it. The cold clung to her like a shivery corona around a dying star; like frost coating the outside of a drive core. Sara wouldn't have been surprised to find that it was snowing outside, but it wasn't. She could see people walking through the market far below them. They looked like vaguely humanoid dots from up here; like dark spots flickering across her vision after staring too long at the sun.

The day was bright and clear. Just _cold_.

"I'll send you a message," Sara said. "When I land. It shouldn't be too hard to -"

Heavy footsteps were her only warning - then Reyes' hands were on her hips, spinning her to face him. He kissed her _hard_ , one hand sliding around to press against the small of her back. The other came up to brush her jaw, fingertips grazing her icy skin. Despite herself, Sara locked her arms around his ribs. She groaned softly when he broke the kiss.

"You're going to be the death of me," Reyes muttered.

"Sorry," Sara murmured - but he kissed her again, driving the apology away.

She _was_ sorry, really. She was sorry for being a burden, even if Reyes would never admit that she was; sorry for being so worn down, like a glass shard beaten into sand. She was sorry for needing this as badly as she did.

"I'm coming with you," Reyes breathed, like there was never anything else he could have done. "But I still think this is the wrong move."

"I know."

"Really, though. Can we take a shower first?"


	8. Eight

The trip to Elaaden was a quick one. Sara's every other visit to the planet had been soundtracked by complaints - mostly hers, admittedly, but sometimes Peebee's, too. It was fifty-six centigrade in the sun today, and at least a few degrees hotter inside Sara's borrowed hardsuit, but heatstroke and dehydration seemed like minor concerns.

She was here.

She was armed.

She was _doing_ something.

Reyes had flown them straight to a Collective staging point a few clicks out from New Tuchanka. The main structure was a metal prefab, just like every other building on this hot, dry planet, but someone with more than a handful of brain cells to rub together had draped thick swathes of tan fabric across the roof. Some of it dangled over the sides of the structure, catching in the rare breezes that skittered across the dunes. It helped to keep the building's interior marginally cooler than the surroundings, and Sara was grateful for it.

She hung back when Reyes greeted the handful of Collective personnel inside, and she kept her helmet on. It was a good enough disguise, she supposed. She might have gotten away with going helmet-free; the crimson symbol splashed across her chestplate would very likely be all that the casual observer noticed about her - but Sara didn't want to take the risk. None of them seemed particularly shocked to see Reyes.

A craggy-faced man was the first to speak to them. His voice was rough as eiroch hide, and heat stress had sent a red flush creeping up his neck. "Reyes Vidal. Dohrgun send you?"

Reyes nodded shortly. "Fact-finding. What can you tell me?"

The man's asari colleague pulled a face. "Us? A bit, but we haven't seen shit." She hiked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating another room in the bare-bones interior. "But we've got a survivor here from the lab. Want to talk to him?"

"The lab?" Sara's voice seemed jarring and out of place, here; both too loud and too soft, and somehow in between as well.

The asari's eyes widened a little as she canted her head to look at Sara. The wrinkled man didn't visibly react, but the sudden tension in Reyes' shoulders was telling.

"You know," the asari said it like it was obvious - and if Sara was honest, it probably was. "The Oblivion lab. The Initiative took it out."

Reyes didn't give Sara time to ask more questions. "Let's see this survivor."

The pair led them to a tiny room set at the back of the building. It was cramped and dirty, and somehow even hotter than it had been outside. A handful of Initiative-issue sleeping bags were scattered across the floor, some sandwiched between crates of dried rations and alcohol. There was a turian lying on one of the sleeping bags, stark naked except for his underwear. A sweat-stained bandage was wrapped tight around his tapered waist.

"This is Marlus. And yeah, that's an abdominal wound," the human agent said dispassionately. "He's probably going to be okay, though. No intestines hanging out."

The turian pulled a face, mandibles flapping in distress. "Piss off, Crane."

The old operative chuckled. "The boss has got Vidal checking in on things. You good to answer his questions?"

Marlus nodded. "Fire away."

Reyes sat down on a nearby crate, making himself comfortable while the other agents retreated to the main room. Sara stood on the periphery, arms crossed tight. The news that the Oblivion lab was gone… didn't really make her feel much of anything. It was a surprising discovery - and a welcome one, too. She'd worried that the word might dredge up feelings long dead and buried.

But Sara was okay.

Reyes looked nervous, though. A stranger might not have seen it, but Sara did. The silence others might find contemplative was a little too tight at the edges. When he braced his elbows on his knees, leaning in closer to Marlus, his dangling hands were a little too still.

"How are you doing for medi-gel?" It was almost conversational.

Marlus wasn't interested in conversation. He growled softly, the tendons in his neck tensing. "Never enough of it, Vidal. Can we hurry this up?"

"All right. Tell me about what happened. You were working at the lab?"

Marlus nodded. "Yeah. Protection. Pathfinder came in and wrecked the place."

A trickle of sweat ran down Sara's spine, but it felt as cold as glacier ice. "You're sure it was the Pathfinder?"

Marlus glanced her way, hesitating. "Very sure. Biotics all over the place. Heard her team yelling to her while they wrecked the fermentation vats. It was definitely the Pathfinder."

Reyes sent Sara a _look_ , but his gaze quickly returned to the turian. "And how did you wind up with a bullet in your gut?"

The turian growled again - dangerously, this time. "Fucking friendly fire. This is gonna sound crazy, but the Pathfinder wasn't doing a lot of shooting. It was like she _wanted_ us to book it."

Sara's breathing came a little easier, at that. She listened in silence as Reyes fished for details, but Marlus didn't offer anything particularly earth-shattering. According to him, the lab was probably unsalvageable. If the Charlatan wanted to rebuild, it would have to be from the ground up.

She stayed quiet when they returned to the main room, too, and when Reyes started probing the first two operatives for planet-side intel. Most of it was inconsequential, and Sara quickly found herself growing impatient. There was no use being on Elaaden unless they did something with the time.

"Any idea where the Pathfinder is now?"

"Not really. There's been a few sightings out near the Remnant derelict."

 _That_ caught Sara's attention, and apparently Reyes', too. "Someone's laid eyes on her themselves?"

"No. That rover's been seen, though. The Nomad."

Sara nudged Reyes with her elbow. "Let's go."

"Hold on," the asari grunted. "It's sandstorm season, Vidal. There's meant to be one kicking up today. You're better off waiting it out."

Sara leaned in closer to Reyes, spine feeling suddenly taut. "If we hang around here waiting, none of that intel will mean anything. What if she leaves?"

Reyes sighed. Sara suspected she knew what he was thinking - if Cora left, he'd get exactly what he wanted in the first place - but he didn't refuse her outright. "How will a rover hold up in the storm?"

The old agent shrugged. "It'll do okay for a while. Should protect you if you get caught up in it - but digging yourself out of the sand again will be a bitch."

"They saw the Nomad near the derelict," Sara said in Reyes' ear. "We can shelter in the ship if we have to. We can't waste this chance."

That urgency she felt _was_ out of concern for the Collective, of course; concern for Reyes' business, and concern for his fractured alliance with the Initiative. But there was another reason, too, and Sara was increasingly aware of it. It was a tingle in her echoing subconscious. It was a sensation that wasn't there at all.

She had a feeling Reyes knew it, too.

"All right," he said finally. "We'll need to take one of your rovers. If anyone gets snippy about allocations, tell them that Keema Dohrgun authorized it."

\---

Sara had always found Elaaden's rolling sands beautiful. It was a harsh world, of course; supportive of life in only the most hard-line sense of the word - but its cruel and deadly majesty was an essential part of its appeal. Those red-white sands were crystal shards, if one just managed to look close enough. Those red-leafed trees were pioneers in a way that Sara would never be; towering, exquisite and thriving; defiant of the wasteland that birthed them. Their pale branches shook as the gusts became more frequent. Showers of sand, whipped up by eddying breezes, rained down like scattered diamonds as the rover made its way across the desert.

Reyes tried not to complain, even if Sara could see that he wanted to. Sweat had plastered strands of dark hair to his forehead. It was marking trails down his dusty neck. Sara planted a kiss on his cheek, giggling indulgently, but he swatted her away.

"It's too _hot_ , Sara."

"I thought you were from Earth, Reyes." She gunned the accelerator, her heartrate climbing and her lungs tingling sweetly as the rover leapt to obey her. She'd missed this. "Earth's hot. Most of it, anyway."

Reyes growled his response under his breath. Sara's translator didn't pick it up.

It wasn't a long drive to the derelict. They skirted sinkholes while the sun hung persistent in the sky, rocketing over the dunes in pale streams of sand. At first, the weather was fine; cheery, almost, even if the temperature hadn't dipped at all - but the wind soon began to pick up. The downed Remnant ship loomed ahead of them the whole while, drawing slowly closer -

Until it wasn't.

Sara leaned forward, peering at the spot it had vacated. "What the hell?"

Reyes got there before she did. "We're driving into the sandstorm."

Sara had never experienced a sandstorm before, but she'd read descriptions of the phenomenon in Milky Way ecosystems. She'd pictured a haze, of course; a sky turned red by flying dust, and maybe a bite to the air as sand grains whipped at bared skin - but she'd never expected something quite this big.

Or quite this _fast_.

It was on them in a heartbeat. The enormous cloud of red and black bore down on them like the crest of a supernova, earth and sky and sand all vanishing beneath the engulfing storm. Sara had time for a single, sharp inhale - and the rover was swallowed too.

All she could see was sand. All she could hear was a _roar_.

"Holy shit," she hissed. The vehicle was rocking from side to side - imperceptibly, almost, but it was more than enough to scare her.

Reyes' mouth was hanging open. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the windscreen. "Good thing this is reinforced," he breathed.

"Keep driving?"

"Keep driving." Reyes pulled up his omni-tool. "I'll watch our heading. You think you can keep this thing straight?"

Driving blind, Sara found, was a lot less fun than she'd expected. It was definitely an adrenaline rush; every rising dune took her by surprise, and every sudden drop took her breath away. But there was a tight ball of anxiety building behind her sternum. The roaring got louder as the wind picked up. The rover was rocking more violently. Sara tried to compensate with forward momentum, pressing harder on the accelerator -

Until forward motion stopped completely.

Sara gunned the accelerator. "Shit."

Reyes glanced up from his omni-tool. "Why did we stop?"

"Shit, shit, _shit_. The rover's stalled. It won't move."

"Shit," Reyes agreed. "Sand in the gears?"

"I guess so." Sara's chest felt tight. "So… I suppose we're staying here."

Reyes drummed his fingertips on the dashboard, brow furrowing as he considered. "We'll be buried here if we do."

Sara glared at him. " _Please_ don't call it a burial."

"What else should I call it?"

"We can dig ourselves out," Sara told him, even if it was mostly to reassure herself. "We just have to wait it out."

Reyes stayed silent for a moment. He went back to his omni-tool - and paused again, his expression going blank. He only ever did that when he was hiding something.

"What is it, Reyes?"

He sighed, raking his fingers through his damp hair. "I'm sure that I'm going to regret telling you this, but we're only a few hundred metres from the ship."

Sara's heart thudded painfully. "How few?"

"Two hundred and seventeen metres."

"So…close enough to run." _If_ they weren't buried in sand before they got there. _If_ the wind didn't pick them up like ragdolls. "Do you think we should?"

"Don't look at me, Sara. Personally, I'm more than happy to sit here until the storm blows over."

Sara tapped her foot while she thought, tugging her lower lip back and forth between her teeth. "That sand looks… exfoliating." Reyes snorted, but Sara couldn't find any real humour in it. "Think our shields will hold up?"

"Probably not."

Sara smacked her hand on the steering wheel. "Hey! A biotic field might."

Reyes paled slightly. "Like… a barrier?"

"Yeah. I've seen Cora do it before. It should keep the worst of it off us until we can get to the ship."

"But you've never done it yourself."

"Sure I have. Just…not on this scale."

Reyes cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. For a moment, Sara was sure he was going to chicken out - but he grabbed his helmet up from the floor and fixed her with a forced smile.

"All right, Sara. But if this doesn't work, we're getting right back in the rover. Deal?"

Sara kissed his smile away. "Deal."

Helmets went on. Shields went up. Sara powered down the rover, made sure that her gun was strapped securely, and helped Reyes check the seals on his helmet.

"We'll need to be quick," Reyes told her before she could open the door. "Open, shut, go - or the rover's going to fill with sand."

"Got it." Now that the moment was upon them, Sara was a little nervous. "Ready?"

"Ready."

The field she created was small, at first. Like an ordinary shield enhancement, it was just large enough to stretch around the boundaries of her armour. She widened it slowly, feeling out each careful centimetre. Reyes stood stock still at her side, his breathing coming short as the blue light gradually engulfed him. It flickered on contact with his skin, but it kept its integrity. After a few seconds, Sara had a bubble large enough for the two of them to fit comfortably inside.

The wind outside was like the scream of steep-angle re-entry. Sara sucked down a deep breath, and Reyes pressed his visor against hers. He smiled, then; swift and surprising, like the storm parting for the sun.

"Let's go."

It all happened very quickly. Open, shut, go - and they were dashing across the sand, holding tight to each other's hands. The dunes were unstable; huge chunks of sand vanished from beneath Sara's feet as she stumbled sightless through the chaos. Grains drummed against her helmet in a frantic, ceaseless beat, as piercing and as terrifying as a shield generator's death rattle. All Sara could do was run. Two hundred metres. One-fifty. A hundred.

She was struggling to maintain the field. She hadn't used her biotics since before the skirmish in Vaalon. Since the trial. Since SAM. It was a shock to learn just how much she'd relied on him; her legs were beginning to shake by the time they hit the fifty metre mark, the blue-lit field wavering as she fought to keep it steady.

Reyes stumbled on a collapsing dune. "Shit!"

Sara dragged him upright. "Come on!"

And her barrier flickered out.

"Run!"

They sprinted the last fifty metres like their lives depended on it - and _hell_ , they probably did. Failing shields shrieked as they ran. With the barrier gone, more of the sand was getting through; it was scratching at Sara's armour, tearing strips off the fabric padding. For several gasping, desperate moments, Sara wondered if she'd killed them.

But the masses of sand began to thin. Light cut through the chaos. Slowly - _too_ slowly, as far as Sara was concerned - they emerged into a patch of almost-calm on the leeward side of the Remnant derelict. Sara doubled over, hands resting on her knees.

"Wow."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Reyes panted. He slapped her on the back, shaking with silent laughter. "Holy… Sara, that was incredible."

"I try," Sara hissed. Swallowing great gulps of air, she forced herself upright again. Visibility was still limited, but she could make out the faint shapes of Remnant pillars scattered around them. "Let's not do that again in a hurry. What side of the ship are we on?"

Reyes went to pull up his omni-tool - and swore. "Damn it. I think the sand's shorted it."

Sara tried hers as well, but with no success. "Well… I didn't expect that. Sorry." She turned a slow circle, trying to take stock of her surroundings.

They were on the very edge of the derelict, sheltered from the worst of the storm by the ship's protective bulk. The hull curved around in an arc, its shifting alloy surface oddly clear of debris. The world was awash in whirling sands; scraped and tossed and scoured by frantic, shrieking winds. Even in the shelter offered by the behemoth, visibility was reduced to almost nothing - but the desert beyond was obscured by huge walls of twisting sand and soil. The gale ripped up great swathes of the towering dunes, snatching earth into the sky like a black hole tearing at the stars.

It was so _loud_.

Sara braced herself against a pillar. She wanted something to hold onto. "Do you think we'll be safe here?"

"What?" Reyes rapped his knuckles on the side of his helmet. "I can't hear you!"

Sara leaned closer. This time, she shouted. "I _said_ \- do you think we'll be safe here?"

Reyes' eyes were on the vortex. "I don't think so! We should go further inside."

"There will be Remnant in there!" The wind was getting louder. How could it be getting louder?

"At least we can _fight_ Remnant! We can't fight that!"

"Wait…"

If Sara squinted, she could see the flash of gunfire at the distant edge of her vision, right where the sandstorm began to thicken. There were figures out there, not quite protected by the lee of the hull. She saw a Remnant assembler go down, its synthetic limbs scattering across the sand. An observer quickly joined it, and a figure appeared from amidst the storm. They turned the observer over with their foot - and the Initiative emblem on their armour caught the meagre light.

Sara's heart leapt up into her throat. "That's Cora!"

Sara wasn't sure if she wanted to call out to her - or _hide_. She settled for grabbing Reyes' arm instead, and they both hunkered down behind a Remnant bollard.

"Your call!" Reyes shouted. Sara moved to stand up, but Reyes grabbed her by the belt. He yanked her back down onto the sand. "Hang on - she's not going to be happy to see armed Collective walking out of the sandstorm."

"Oh. Right." Sara had forgotten about the mark on her chest, but she pried his fingers free. She opened the visor on her helmet, even though it meant she was soon spitting sand out of her mouth. "I'll be careful! This is Cora we're talking about."

He didn't seem convinced. Still, he didn't protest when Sara climbed back to her feet. She held her hands in the air, fingers stretched wide to show she was unarmed, and made her way slowly forward.

She saw the laser light on her chest before she saw who aimed it. It had to be Jaal, though - and there he was, leaping up from behind the rock he'd turned into a sniper's nest. He let his weapon sight dip.

"Ryder?" She could hardly hear him through the gale. "Ryder!"

"Jaal!" She waved her arms above her head. "It's me!"

Somewhere further out in the vortex of wind-tossed sand, Sara could hear Liam shouting. "Wait! Sara's here?" He appeared from behind a pillar, his uniform painted red by the sand.

"Ryder." Cora's voice was unmistakable, even through her helmet and the roaring wind.

And for a moment - a single, grating moment - time stretched out forever. The whirling sands kept howling, but everything else just _stopped_. If Sara stood there for long enough, the storm would whittle her down to nothing; break through her suit shields, and scatter her ashes over the desert.

If Cora was here, then SAM was too.

But the world didn't wait for long. Cora looked Sara up and down, gaze lingering on the symbol emblazoned on her chestplate. "What are you doing here?"

Sara closed her visor again, and the shrieking of the storm briefly dulled. "I'm here to find out what's going on!" All this yelling was starting to make her throat hurt.

There was a moment of hesitation, but Cora's shouted answer was firm. "I can't tell you anything! You're not Initiative anymore."

Sara glowered, even if Cora couldn't see it through her helmet. If Cora wouldn't help her, maybe someone else would.

"SAM?"

"Hello, Sara."

And the words felt like a bullet in her chest.

Sara's breath left her in a rush, like her lungs were crushed down to nothing; like something small and deep and vital had been ripped right out of her abdomen. She hadn't expected it, even if maybe she should have; hadn't dreamed that missing someone could make her feel just like she was dying.

But she tried. She tried to stand tall; tried to shout; tried to make herself heard over the sandy hell drawing closer. "SAM, please tell me what's going on!"

No one replied. Cora's hands balled into fists, her head canting to the side - and Sara realized with a rush of sudden jealousy that she was conferring with SAM.

"All right," Cora said finally. "Ryder, we've found proof that those raids on our shipments _were_ carried out by the Collective. We're here to show it won't be tolerated. Besides, we both know that lab was -" She broke off - and raised her weapon.

"Cora." Reyes had finally ventured out from his hiding spot. He was clearly struggling to make himself heard over the cacophony, but he still somehow managed to sound overconfident. "I thought we were friends!"

"You brought _him_?"

What the hell was happening? Cora's shotgun was pointed at Reyes - and Sara was _not_ okay with that. She stepped in front of him, cutting off Cora's line of sight.

"Of course I did."

Reyes was yelling over Sara's shoulder. "I would love to hear about this proof you mentioned! Proving something that never happened is really quite a feat."

Cora hesitated again. Behind her, Liam and Jaal exchanged glances. The wind's roaring was almost deafening, now. It thundered across the dunes like it might scour every grain from the face of the planet; a hurricane built from gritty red sands. There was a dull beat underscoring the howling, so faint that it was almost undetectable.

"I don't think this is the time!" Liam hollered. "Let's go inside!"

"Liam is right!" Jaal added.

Sara had to agree. "This way!" She didn't want to turn her back on Cora - which was yet another realization that made her feel sick - so she gestured for her to take the lead.

Cora shook her head. "After you."

Sara couldn't believe her ears. "Cora, this is insane! You didn't have to race out here and start shooting things. If you wanted the Collective's attention, you knew exactly who to talk to!"

Cora made an incredulous noise. It was almost lost to the wind. "What? You think I should have told Tann that?"

That rumbling was accelerating - and it was growing louder, too. Behind her, Reyes gave a sardonic chuckle.

"Can I trust you not to shoot me, Pathfinder?"

His use of the title; hearing _Reyes_ call her that - it sent a jolt of rage up Sara's spine, searing and electric like a detonating drive core. It was sudden enough to take her breath away - and fierce enough to horrify her. Sara was _more_ than her hijacked title.

Wasn't she?

Liam was dancing back and forth on his toes, watching the storm over his shoulder. "Uh, Pathfinder?"

The beat was like a barrage, now. It was almost loud enough to drown out the storm; a steady _boom_ that rolled across the sands like an existential drumbeat -

And, quite suddenly, Sara realized where she'd heard it before.

The Remnant worm erupted from the ground beside her.

Sand sprayed outwards in a wave of grit and silica. A clump as dense as rock and heavy as a bowling ball took Sara full in the chest; it knocked her onto her back, her head snapping back painfully on impact with the dirt. A smattering of stars danced across her vision, and the world fell briefly silent.

But it all rushed back in an instant. The worm was towering over her, already looping back down towards the dunes. Sand rained down around her, partitioning the world between stinging, gritty curtains. Everything was _shaking_ \- the sand; the air; the hidden heavens -

And the derelict Remnant ship.

Sara watched, lungs seizing tight with fear, as the nearest outcrop of the hull began to tremble. She rolled onto her side, hands scrabbling at the sand, as the screech of impending collapse cut through the wind. She struggled to get her feet beneath her, but she couldn't see anything except those rapidly-growing shadows on the sand; couldn't hear anything except the wind and shrieking metal.

The huge worm hit the ground again.

The wave washed over Sara's head, this time, almost burying her in red. She crawled right through it, blinded by the spray; scrambling away from the source of the metallic screeching. _Shit_ \- she didn't know where she was going, but she had to get away. When that section of hull fell, it was going to crush an area twice again the size of the Nomad -

The impact was loud enough to drown out the howling storm. It sent tremors rolling outward through the sand - and the first vibrations were powerful enough to lift Sara clear off the ground. She scrabbled at the empty air, flailing helplessly as kinematics flipped her feet up over her head and planted her flat on her back again -

"Fuck!" Sara couldn't see - and _shit_ , she could barely move - but she was still breathing.

She managed to hoist herself up onto her elbows, but it didn't really help. The worm was still arcing through the air, the tip of its tail just now emerging; still shrieking that distinctly Remnant cry. Sand was still flying - and it looked like the walls of sand were drawing _closer_ , like a noose slowly tightening around them - but the hunk of severed hull was hard to miss. It was half a dozen metres across, and half again as high. There was no telling how deep a hole it might have gouged in the sand. Sara could have been looking at the tip of a metallic iceberg. It was ringed by little concentric mounds of sand, like ripples rolling out across a pale sea.

Weird. Sara's ears were ringing, but her mind was on the details; inconsequential observations she could draw on at her next trial -

"Come on!"

Liam materialized from the scouring haze. Sara's bruised spine protested when he hauled her upright, but she managed to stagger along with him towards the derelict's questionable shelter. Jaal met them halfway there, the back of his rofjinn ripped almost clean off.

"We must get out of the wind!" Jaal called. Behind them, the last of the Remnant worm's articulated plates disappeared into the ground.

Liam was limping, Sara realized. "Where's the Pathfinder?" he shouted.

"I do not see her," Jaal replied.

"Wait." Sara twisted around, but all she saw was that churning vortex of sand. She wouldn't have thought it possible, but the storm was getting worse; if she'd held out her arm, she wouldn't have seen much farther than the tips of her outstretched fingers. "Have you seen Reyes?"

"No," Liam began. "Maybe they're both inside -"

"Reyes!" Sara only shouted louder, longing for a comm; a beacon; _anything_. "Reyes!"

There was no response.

"We'll never find them in this mess!" Liam tugged on Sara's arm, attempting to draw her back towards the ship. "Let's get inside - take stock."

Sara didn't want to admit it; didn't want to think about where Reyes might be _other_ than inside - but Liam was right. She relented, and the three of them scurried beneath the protection of the derelict's shell. The sand stopped whipping at them maybe fifteen or twenty metres in, and the ceaseless crashing thunder faded to a muffled hum. Liam collapsed onto a fallen pillar, gloved hands going straight to what must be his injured leg. Jaal was attempting to shake the sand out of his rifle, but his eyes were on the space around them.

Sara was way ahead of him - but there was no sign of the others. No Cora. No SAM.

No Reyes.

When she spoke, her voice shook. "We should contact SAM node. He'll know if they're okay. He'll have logged everything."

"Fat lot of good that does us." Liam's voice was a little unsteady, too. "Or is your omni-tool still working?"

"No."

"Then we wait," Jaal said quietly. "For the storm to pass."

Sara nodded. She was sure she'd been hurting a moment ago, but she couldn't feel any of it now. She moved to sit next to Liam, hoping they couldn't see her trembling.

"Yeah. Of course."

Liam clapped her on the back. "Hey - I'm sure they're fine."

But Sara hardly heard him. What had Reyes said to her?

_You're going to be the death of me._


	9. Nine

"Can I trust you not to shoot me, Pathfinder?"

It felt strange to call her that; _wrong_ , somehow, like Reyes was giving away someone else's name. Sara must have felt it too, because her stance changed and her shoulders tensed. Cora just stared at him. She didn't lower her gun.

Whatever proof the Initiative had found, it must have been compelling.

Liam was clearly nervous, and Reyes didn't blame him. The storm was building higher; squeezing down their little pocket of safety inch by wind-lashed inch. "Uh, Pathfinder?"

Sara gasped. She took a step back -

And a serpentine colossus burst out of the ground. The earth shook with the force of the eruption, displaced sand fountaining upwards as the creature rocketed towards the sky. It was _huge_. Reyes had never seen anything like it, even if he had seen it mentioned in reports. _The Remnant worm._

He was still staring up at it, half-blinded by the spray, when a particularly violent tremor knocked his feet out from under him. He landed on his hands and knees, struggling to regain his feet; to get his bearings; to get a glimpse of _anything_ besides rumbling earth and raining sand. He could hear a ringing screech above him, like steel plates under a blade saw. Was the monster made of metal?

The worm's movement changed, slightly, although its articulated body had not yet emerged. It was arcing downwards, curving back towards the sand like it was planning to -

Like it was planning to dive.

Energized by sudden desperation, Reyes managed to get his feet beneath him. He took one stumbling step back, still blinking and disoriented. His gaze was dragged upwards almost against his will - and he finally found the source of the metallic shriek.

A section of the derelict's hull was coming loose.

Reyes turned to run -

And the head of the colossus hit the sand right in front of him.

The quake hurled him backwards, his feet kicking uselessly while they searched for ground that wasn't there. He landed on his back, groaning in pain - but he was cut off on a strangled gasp.

He was staring right up at the disturbed hull. It was trembling; screeching; _breaking free_ -

Someone scrambled over to Reyes' side. Sara?

No - it was Cora Harper, her hands haloed in flickering blue. "Are you _sure_ , SAM? I need you to be sure!"

She seized Reyes by his chestplate. The shuddering section of hull finally fell -

"Hold on!"

Biotic power flared. Cora drove it down into the sand -

And the ground fell out beneath them.

\---

There was a moment just after Reyes awoke - his spine aching, his head throbbing and his elbows stinging - when he thought he was back on the Nexus again. The dull beeping in the distance could only be the chime of cryo control. The chill in the air was the doctor returning to freeze him. It was a sudden slide back into consciousness in a familiar place made foreign; like waking in his own bed and thinking it a stranger's.

He wasn't on the Nexus, though, and he definitely wasn't in his bed. He was lying on a metal floor so smooth it might be liquid. When he opened his eyes, he found a ceiling lit in Remnant green and blue.

Reyes sat up, holding back a groan. His helmet was lying next to him. When he raked a hand back through his hair, his fingers came away bloody. "What the…"

"There is no need for concern, Mr. Vidal."

Reyes flinched. He twisted around to find Cora sitting behind him, propped up against a Remnant light source. She was watching him carefully, apparently oblivious to the bloodied hole in her armour at about mid-thigh. An empty packet of medi-gel lay on the floor beside her helmet. SAM must be speaking through a speaker on her hardsuit; Cora's omni-tool was lying discarded, sparking uselessly in the spaces between SAM's words.

"I'm surprised I didn't wake up in cuffs," Reyes said slowly. His throat ached like he'd swallowed a gallon of sand.

Cora smiled humourlessly. "What a shame. I left mine at home today."

"What happened to you?"

"Landed on something I shouldn't have landed on," Cora growled. "I'll be fine in a moment."

"Right." Reyes glanced around. They must be inside the derelict. Beyond their little sphere of light, the space around them was almost totally black. "How did you know this was down here?"

"SAM found it."

"The Remnant worm's movement through the sands destabilized the hull above us, Mr. Vidal. It is fortunate that the tremors placed you precisely where they did. If you had been any more than thirty-two centimetres displaced from your position, we would not have been able to assist you."

"Well." Reyes' heartbeat was suddenly a little erratic. He smiled as broadly as he could manage. "Thanks for the rescue, Pathfinder. I can't say I would have enjoyed the alternative."

Cora shrugged. If Reyes was a betting man - and he was - he would have said she was embarrassed. Whatever she might say, and wherever she might point that gun of hers, the Pathfinder clearly didn't want him as dead as she pretended.

Cora shifted, wincing when her thigh flexed further than she'd intended. "Has the storm stopped yet, SAM?"

"No, Pathfinder. The Tempest's orbital scans suggest that the sandstorm will not dissipate for at least another two to three hours."

"Well, I guess we would have been stuck here anyway." Cora scowled. "How long until you think I'll be able to walk?"

"That is difficult to predict with any certainty. With Mr. Vidal's assistance, perhaps several hours. It will take time for the medi-gel's regenerative properties to have any noticeable effect."

"Great." Cora turned her scowl on Reyes. "Guess my field surgery's not as practised as yours."

Reyes snorted. "I guess not." And just like that, his heart leapt into his throat. "Wait. Where's Sara?"

"She is safe, Mr. Vidal, along with Mr. Kosta and Mr. Ama Darav. My logs confirm it." His next words were rather pointed. "Since I was transferred to Pathfinder Harper, I have been logging almost continuously. That, of course, means that I am recording this conversation."

"Got it." It was as clear a warning as Reyes had ever heard. "Do they know we're okay?"

"No. It appears that none of them possess a functioning omni-tool. I am unable to contact them."

"Join the damn club," Cora muttered. She sighed explosively. "I guess it's just you and me for a while, Reyes. Got any campfire stories you want to share?"

"I'm afraid not." Reyes lay back down on the floor, trying to stretch out his battered spine. It _hurt._ "But let's talk about that proof you mentioned earlier."

He wasn't looking at her anymore, but Reyes was sure Cora's expression hardened. "I can't divulge that," she snapped.

"Come on, Pathfinder. If you have proof the Collective is guilty of attacks on Initiative shipments, what's the use in hiding it?"

He heard her take a steadying breath. "The last attack went badly," she finally replied. "A couple of the raiders took bullets, so they called it off. The freighter managed to escape. The crew identified the attackers. Collective armour. Collective guns."

Reyes frowned. He'd been doing some digging himself, since Sara told him about the raids, and he'd found nothing to suggest any of his people were feeling independent. The Collective wasn't behind it - but someone clearly wanted the Initiative to think it was.

"Do you really believe that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Cora snapped. "If the _Charlatan_ -" Reyes hoped the heavy irony wouldn't show up on SAM's logs - "wants to outfit his people like shocktroopers, he's going to lose his plausible deniability."

"I know you won't take a smuggler's word for it, but perhaps you'll trust the Charlatan's reputation instead." Reyes spoke as airily as he could, but it was difficult. He _hated_ to be recorded. "If he was attacking Initiative ships, I can only assume he would want to hide it. Do you really think he would have been that clumsy? Do you really think he would have let the victims run?"

Cora stayed silent. Reyes could feel her stare boring a hole in the side of his skull.

"You _know_ your proof was manufactured, Cora. It's why you didn't shoot to kill at the Collective lab. It's why you didn't let that thing up there crush me."

SAM spoke up before Cora could respond. "Mr. Vidal does have a point, Pathfinder. It is worth noting that none of the raids bear the hallmarks of a Collective operation."

Cora sighed. The seconds stretched out - and stretched out -

"Why did you bring Sara here?" she demanded.

Reyes frowned. He was painfully aware of those audiovisual logs ticking over back at SAM node. This topic of conversation was bound to skirt territory that Reyes couldn't talk his way around, so he kept his answers short in the hopes that Cora might get the hint.

"She insisted." For the log, he said, "and the Charlatan wanted someone to keep an eye on her."

The Initiative leadership had to have heard all the rumours on Kadara, right? And if they hadn't - well, now they had. Better to be safe than sorry.

He could almost hear Cora rolling her eyes. "Right."

"If you didn't want her here," Reyes snapped, "you should have talked to her before you went nuclear on Collective assets. Why didn't you?"

"People are _scared_ ," Cora snarled. Reyes heard her kick something - and hiss when the movement aggravated her injury. "They're angry. Everything's so tense, what with the angara and the Collective… and with everything that happened with Sara. I need to show them that I can get the job done. They need to know that they're protected - even if Sara's not around anymore."

Reyes turned to look at her. She pointedly avoided his gaze, her fists clenching and unclenching like she was wringing some poor fool's neck. Reyes was quietly amazed.

He felt sorry for her. He wouldn't have been able to fill Sara's shoes, either - and he couldn't think of anyone that might.

"Mr. Vidal," SAM cut in. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure. As long as it's not too personal for those logs of yours." Cora was still avoiding his eyes. Reyes looked back at the ceiling, wondering if it might give her a little more space to breathe.

"It is not."

"Then go ahead."

"How is Sara?"

Reyes wasn't sure how to answer that. He knew that SAM was more than a machine - but how much nuance could he really take?

"She's… all right. I wouldn't say she's fine, though. She dyed her hair, but I don't think it helped."

That seemed to take SAM a moment to process. "I do not understand. I am aware of instances in which toxic chemicals in certain dyes -"

Cora scoffed. "It's a coping mechanism, SAM. Everyone does it. Hell - I'm surprised half the humans in Andromeda aren't running around with pastel undercuts right now."

Reyes gave a hollow chuckle. "There's not enough dye in the galaxy." Anything he said now would live on in SAM's logs for all eternity, and that made honesty rather difficult to offer. "It was hard for her to lose you, SAM. She's lost a lot of things already. A lot of people."

"I see." The AI fell silent for a moment, and Reyes had to wonder if he really _did_ see; if that quantum-state brain of his understood far more than anyone knew. "I would appreciate your assistance with something, Mr. Vidal. I believe I have identified a new feeling, but I require a second opinion."

Reyes shifted uncomfortably. His back was beginning to hurt a little less, but his chest was starting to hurt instead. Sympathy. Remembered pain. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Fire away."

"In the time that I have been apart from Sara, I have found my servers burdened by a growing number of things that I wish to tell her. This should not be taken as a reflection on my time with Pathfinder Harper, but my relationship with her is less developed than the relationship I had with Sara.

"There are questions that I wish to ask her. I also wish to describe what it is like to be connected to someone else - someone that is not Alec Ryder, or even a Ryder at all. There are comparisons that I believe Sara would find humorous. I believe my sense of humour has shown considerable development since our separation, and I would like her opinion."

SAM paused. The silence was so complete that, at least for a moment, Reyes was sure he could hear his own heartbeat.

"I am familiar with sadness. I am also familiar with grief. This is not the same."

"You miss her, SAM." There was a tickle in Reyes' throat. "That's not really a surprise."

"Indeed." Another pause. Reyes could hear Cora sniffling. "It is useful to have confirmation. Thank you, Mr. Vidal."

Finding their way out of the derelict was harder than Reyes had expected. Somehow, he'd managed to construct himself a fantasy in which the Pathfinder's ability to interface with the Remnant meant that they would miraculously reappear on the surface - but he was sorely disappointed. They hobbled through the ship instead, guided only by the light on Cora's hardsuit and by SAM's educated guesses. _Predictions based on probability,_ SAM called them. Reyes just called it clever.

They waited for hours before departing, allowing Cora's leg a little time to heal. Reyes dozed off in the hours in between, slipping in and out of consciousness like he was sleeping with one eye open. Eventually, though, Cora lost her patience. She couldn't walk unaided, even if she could put some weight on the limb while she was standing still; Reyes had to help her along with her arm hooked over his shoulder.

All in all, though, things could have been much worse. They only encountered one group of bots on their way toward the surface, and they were dispatched with a minimum of fuss. Cora's biotics took out half of them, and Reyes picked off the remainder with a series of well-placed bullets. The Pathfinder looked at him a little differently afterwards, like her soldier's sensibilities had forced her to reassess him. Reyes didn't complain.

Still, by the time they finally emerged into the light of Elaaden's searing, oppressive sun, Reyes was more than ready to be gone. The sun was just as high in the sky as ever, and the storm-tilled desert looked the same in all directions. Reyes had no idea which way to go.

"Any suggestions?"

"I have contacted the Tempest for extraction," SAM said helpfully. "The coordinates of our encounter with the Remnant worm are on the far side of the derelict ship. Given the Pathfinder's injury, I suggest we allow the Tempest to assist us in retrieving the rest of the team."

"You know where they are, then?" If Reyes knew Sara, she was probably worried about him. It was nice to have someone that would worry.

"No. However, given that they are currently unable to make contact with the Tempest themselves, and given that the Nomad must by now be buried by sand, they have most likely chosen to wait for assistance."

It wasn't long before the Tempest appeared above them. At first, she was distant enough to be mistaken for a bird, but her silhouette quickly took shape. Reyes' heart swelled tight with anticipation - and it took him a moment to realize that it was only a conditioned response. The Tempest wasn't Sara's ship anymore. There wasn't any reason for joy.

Yet.

Reyes was grateful for his helmet as the ship slowly descended, her thrusters kicking up sand in pale sheets. Vetra and Drack were descending the boarding ramp almost as soon as it began to open.

"Cora? Shit, Vidal, what did you do this time?"

"It's a pleasure, Vetra." Reyes hefted Cora forwards, ignoring her quiet hiss of pain. "I've missed you, too."

Vetra tipped her mandibles at him in what Reyes had come to think of as a typical Vetra Nyx smile. "SAM told us what happened." She scurried forward to take Cora's weight. Reyes slipped away gratefully, and Drack stepped in to take his place.

"You still in one piece?" The krogan asked him.

Reyes inclined his head. He was fairly certain that Drack wasn't asking for his sake, but that didn't really change anything. "I am indeed," he replied smoothly - though it still felt like his vocal cords were coated in sand.

"You lost Ryder, though."

"Did I mention I've missed you as well, old man?"

Drack chuckled good-naturedly. "Good thing we're here to cover for you. You just sit back and relax. We'll find her."

It all felt rather surreal. Reyes followed them up the boarding ramp in something of a daze, discarding his helmet on a nearby cargo crate. Unlike Cora, the crew all spoke to him as though nothing at all had ever come between them. Perhaps they all doubted the Initiative's evidence, too.

While Drack and Vetra hustled Cora into the med bay, Gil wandered by and clapped Reyes on the shoulder. "Heard you're having some trouble with your omni-tool. Want me to take a look at it? I promise not to access any files."

Peebee and Suvi were all smiles, as well, though Kallo did seem a little more standoffish than usual. Reyes didn't pay him any mind. There was some squabbling in the med bay as Cora and Lexi butted heads over whether she should be permitted to walk up to the bridge, so Reyes passed the time in engineering, watching Gil tinker with his poor, abused omni-tool.

"She'll be all right," the engineer commented cheerily, unperturbed by the odd spark or two. "Although… _yeesh._ There's an awful lot of sand in here."

"It's a rather sandy planet, Gil. Hot, too."

"You don't need to tell me. We've still got to dig the Nomad out. When Cora's all healed, I'm going to kill her." After a little more careful prodding, Gil handed him the omni-tool. He was grinning like a man with a winning hand. "There we go! Good as new. You can thank me later, of course."

Reyes couldn't disguise his shock as the snapped the omni-tool back over his wrist. It was running through its boot-up sequence, apparently none the worse for wear. "Amazing. Thank you, Gil."

"Don't mention it."

"Reyes." Finally, Cora's voice came in over the Tempest's PA system. "Kallo's flying us out to those coordinates now. I've…been told to take it easy. Peebee and Vetra will meet you at the boarding ramp."

Reyes farewelled Gil with a wink. He fidgeted while he waited by the boarding ramp, trying to resist the urge to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. Peebee and Vetra adjusted their armour in silence, though Peebee chuckled and Vetra's mandibles twitched with amusement whenever they cast a glance his way. Reyes ignored them. This was an opportunity for an impressive entrance. He could descend from the ship, raking his hair back from his eyes, and fix Sara with his most dashing grin.

_You look like you're waiting for someone._

No. That particular line was approaching the point of overuse. Maybe he could -

Suvi's voice came in over the intercom. "I'm not detecting anyone near the coordinates you provided, SAM. Are you sure these are correct?"

"Yes, Dr. Anwar. It is possible that they are sheltering somewhere within the vessel. I recommend we send a ground team to investigate."

Reyes bit back a sigh. So much for his grand entrance. He covered for it by flicking through his now functional omni-tool. It was a little slow to open his inbox, but Reyes supposed he'd be a little slow if someone had rubbed sand through his circuits, too. He'd received about a dozen messages while he was off-grid, but none of them looked particularly important at first glance. There was one from Keema, timestamped as about eight hours old - and a handful of shorter ones, all addressing his lack of response.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Just got a comm from our people at the Flophouse. Apparently they've captured the Pathfinder team. You should head out there._

_\--_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Word from the Flophouse is there's no sign of Reyes Vidal. Where the hell are you?_

_\--_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Apparently it's Ryder that they have, not Harper. Ryder's demanding they let her go. Our people are getting nervous. They don't want to antagonize the Charlatan._

_\--_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_Where the hell are you? Skkut._

_\--_

And the last one, timestamped at five hours old:

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_They sent Ryder back to the Nexus, but they kept Jaal and Kosta. When you get this, **message me back!!**_

_\--_

Reyes sighed. Dutifully, he started keying in a response.

Peebee raised an eyebrow at him. "What's up?"

"We're going to have to turn around."


	10. Ten

Sara had stopped counting the hours. It felt like the roaring of the storm had been a part of her forever; like howling wind and scouring sand were the pillars of her world. She'd made herself a hollow at the base of a Remnant outcrop, but sleep just wouldn't come. Liam's snoring could be heard even over the wind, but Jaal wasn't sleeping either. His visor lit his features in a soft and pale blue - and it made his concerned expression almost impossible to ignore.

"I believe the wind is dying down," he murmured. "We should not have long to wait."

Sara didn't respond. She'd stopped counting the hours.

But it had been too long.

Jaal was right. Time was slipping slowly through her fingers, but the deafening winds were beginning to quiet. If she peered beyond their shelter into the world of shrieking sand, she could see that the chaos was beginning to falter. She did count the hours, then. She counted every aching second.

The curtains of sand parted slowly, red-white layers dissolving away to reveal a sky of polished blue. Sara shivered as the walls peeled back, although it still wasn't really cold. Elaaden was never cold - not even on its darker side, and not even now; not even if it seemed somehow _wrong_ to feel the warmth.

Jaal protested when Sara stood. "Wait a moment longer, Ryder. We should make sure that this is not simply a lull."

Sara ignored him. She headed for the exit.

"Wait for us!" Jaal called. Somewhere behind her, she could hear Liam scrambling up off the ground.

Sara kept walking. Sand grains scratched at her cheeks as she stepped out of their shelter - dimly, she realized she'd forgotten her helmet - but she didn't turn back. She could see the spot where they'd tangled with the Remnant worm, although the landscape was almost unrecognizable. The great burrows in the ground had been completely erased by the storm. White sand was piled high around the section of sheared hull, the gentle breezes slowly working to turn the slopes convex. Only the very top of the colossal metal shard was visible, like a monument to some dim and distant tragedy.

Like a grave.

Breathing seemed suddenly complicated. In, out; in, out. That was it, right? An involuntary process, and one she'd performed all her life. Maybe the silicates had settled in her lungs, building crystals between membranes like some sparkling, glass-edged web. In. Out.

She walked a circle around the slab, feet slipping on the loosened sand - then walked one in the opposite direction. She wanted to call out for him. The words were already there inside her, crammed into her lungs between those blades of splintered glass. They were battering at her throat. They were clawing their way out -

But his name would make it real, and Sara still couldn't breathe.

Beside her, Liam took a deep breath. He let it out between his teeth, booted toes digging grooves in the sand. He wasn't limping anymore. "Could be they took shelter in some other part of the ship. Do you see another entrance?"

Jaal pursed his lips. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Maybe he thought that Sara didn't see it. Maybe she'd let him keep thinking that.

She looked down at the sand surrounding the marker. It was so smooth and pale; comforting, almost, in its natural uniformity. The light made it look like a sea of silver.

Could it really have happened so suddenly? One moment, he was standing there beside her, and then -

"We should find the Nomad," Jaal was saying. "We will probably need to dig it out of the sand, but Ryder's biotics should help." He paused. "Ryder?"

Sudden meant meaningless. Sudden meant arbitrary. If he'd been a metre to the left; if she'd been a few steps further back -

If she hadn't dragged him out here in the first place -

"Ryder?"

Sara dropped to her knees. She started digging through the sand.

For a while, they let her. Sara knew what she was looking for, but she didn't want to find it. She didn't realize she was crying until the first tears hit the sand. The world became a wash of hazy tears and gritty powder; of a grave that just got deeper, and a hole she'd never fill.

"Sara," Jaal said finally. He laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tight enough to halt her. "Stop this. We will find the Nomad, then contact SAM. He will be able to tell us what happened."

Sara wanted to scream at him, but she didn't have the air to do it. SAM couldn't have good news - because where else could Reyes be?

Liam crouched down beside her, hands resting on his knees. "Jaal's right. We should go."

Sara clung tight to the sand. They were right. She couldn't stay here. Zaubray would cook her to a crisp - but she couldn't leave, either. Leaving would mean leaving _him_. Leaving would mean giving up.

Later, she would be grateful that she was never forced to decide.

The telltale sound of an approaching vessel rumbled across the dunes. Sara turned, squinting up into the whitewashed sky, as Jaal and Liam went for their weapons. She'd been hoping to find the Tempest, though the frequency wasn't quite right, but the shadow above them didn't match her angular shape. It mapped out a rounded prism, hefted by tubular vertical thrusters.

"It's the Collective," Sara murmured as the shuttle dropped closer. She had to shield her eyes against the stinging sand it whipped up.

Liam gave a short, frustrated hiss. "What the hell do they want?"

"You've been destroying their assets," Sara said dully. "What do you think?"

Jaal adjusted his grip on his weapon, peering upward through his visor. "The door is opening," he said quietly. "I can take one out from here."

" _No_." Sudden alarm propelled Sara to her feet. "Tann's proof is bullshit, Jaal. The Collective are still allies."

They both looked at her oddly, eyes darting to the symbol on her chestplate. She knew what they were thinking.

_If the Pathfinder's gone, who the hell is in charge now?_

"All right," Jaal murmured. He lowered his weapon, but he didn't tuck it away. Liam followed suit, eyes tracking the newcomers as they disembarked their shuttle and made their way across the sand.

There were four of them: two turians, a human and a salarian. Sara didn't recognize any of them. They looked at her, then at her armour; at her friends, then at each other.

The taller turian, with a chipped and flaking crest, eyed Sara's chestplate carefully. "You're Collective?"

Sara sighed. She didn't want to play this game. They'd figure it out eventually, and she'd rather it be soon. "Not really. I'm kind of an associate." She held out a hand, mindful of their readied weapons. "Sara Ryder."

The other turian glowered, her mandibles twitching. Her gaze turned to Liam and Jaal, and then to their guns - but the others shared looks of sudden apprehension. No one bothered to shake Sara's hand.

"Ah, _shit_ ," the human muttered. "I thought you got fired?"

"I did."

"Then why are these two with you?" the salarian demanded, gesturing to Sara's companions. He turned to his fellows, every limb abuzz with nervous energy. "This wasn't in the brief."

"Doesn't change anything," growled the second turian. "Standing orders say lock down the Pathfinder team - so that's exactly what we'll do." She pointed her gun at Sara. "I'm hoping this goes easy. Guns away, and get on the shuttle. There's food and water back at base. No climate control, but you can't have everything."

The salarian rounded on her, clutching his gun to his chest. "This is Sara _fucking_ Ryder," he hissed. "You know what happened to the last crew that -"

"We're not kidnapping her," the turian snapped back. "We're inviting her over for drinks. I'll contact Dohrgun to let her know we've got them."

Jaal's voice was quiet. "And if we refuse to go with you?"

The turian shrugged. "You won't."

And even though Sara hated to admit it - even though that silent monument behind her was pulling at the marrow in her bones - the turian definitely wasn't wrong.

"Your friend has a point," Sara said softly. The words burned like acid in her throat. "Lay a finger on anyone here, and your boss will make you all regret it."

"Relax, Ryder." The turian clearly tried to make it sound confident, but Sara could see she was shaken. "We're all friends here."

\---

The flight over the dunes was tense. The exiles confiscated their weapons, although they didn't bother with restraints. Jaal glowered menacingly when the salarian laid hands on his prized rifle, and the operative squeaked a terrified apology as he scampered away with the gun. The human kept his distance, too, hunkering near the shuttle door like he thought Sara had something contagious. Sara could hear the turians whispering to each other; words like _Dohrgun_ and _orders_ and _Charlatan_.

"We'll get out of this," Liam whispered to her as the shuttle started to descend. "They're too scared to hurt us."

Sara just sighed. Liam thought she was _afraid_. Sure, part of her wondered what the Collective might do if it got out that the Charlatan was -

No. She wasn't going to think about it. She was going to get her gun back, she was going to get her hands on a long-range comm, and she was going to make SAM talk to her. Failing that, she was going to crawl back to her monument by the derelict. One way or another, she was going to find out what happened to him.

Sara was surprised to find that she recognized their destination. They were ushered out of the shuttle and across a sand-blasted plateau, the high ridges encircling them outlined in piercing gold. They were headed for a sprawling collection of prefabs built close against the side of a cliff. Some were perched on the shallow ledges beneath the rocky overhang; huddled tight beneath the precipice, but high above the canyon floor. If Sara craned her neck to look behind her, she could see a towering stone pillar looming over it all.

"The Collective's moved into the Flophouse, huh? I'm surprised you have enough people on Elaaden to fill this place."

None of them replied, and Sara quickly learned why. They _didn't_ have enough people to fill this place. The vast majority of the buildings were empty, locked tight against intrusion by scavengers or beasts. Their hosts guided them up a stony incline, warning them to watch for loose sand, then up through the stacked tiers of prefabs. The catwalks were a warren of aluminium and sand-worn polymer; Sara was well and truly lost by the time they were finally directed into a building.

At one stage, it must have been a storage area. There were gouges in the floor from the drag of heavy crates or munitions, and the room still smelled faintly of engine grease. It seemed to have been converted into a compact base of operations. What looked to have once been a single, expansive room was broken into sections by a wall of neatly organized boxes and terminals. Sara could see the foot of a mattress poking out from behind a screen at the farthest end of the room. Their human escort gestured to a cluster of steel-frame chairs nearby.

"Have a seat," he muttered. "By the way, Arruxa wasn't kidding about the food and water. Hungry? Thirsty?"

For a moment, Liam looked surprised - then utterly overjoyed. "Damn, _yes_. When was the last time we ate, Jaal?"

Jaal continued to glower. "Do you have any nutrient paste?"

"What, that angaran stuff? No. Some standard Initiative rations, and some fried ahdi."

"I'll go for the ahdi," Liam said after a moment's thought. Jaal nodded in agreement, and Liam promptly elbowed Sara in the ribs. "You?"

The thought of fried ahdi made Sara want to hurl. "I'm not hungry."

"You sure? I don't think any of us had dinner yesterday, and you're a biotic -"

"I'm not hungry."

Liam and the exile exchanged that universal look that said _she doesn't know what she's talking about_ , and the exile wandered off to find their food. Jaal settled into a careful silence, restless eyes scanning the space for anything and everything that might prove of use to him later. Liam glanced at Sara like he was thinking about trying to strike up a conversation, but he clearly thought better of it. He unclipped his omni-tool instead, then gave it an experimental shake. It rattled like a maraca, scattering sand across the floor.

"Bloody hell."

Sara was straining her ears. The two turians were huddled together around a terminal on the other side of the room. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but the salarian soon joined them - and _he_ was quite clearly audible.

"Well if she's not the Pathfinder anymore, what _is_ the fucking policy?" His pitch climbed higher with every syllable. "This is your fault, Arruxa. We should have left her out there."

The female turian scoffed. "What, and let her die out there? You saw what I saw - they didn't have a rover _or_ a shuttle. The Charlatan will thank us."

"I still don't think -"

"Just shut up about it," the other turian grunted. "She's listening to everything you say."

Sara smiled tightly, and the salarian quivered.

"What did Dohrgun say?" Maybe he thought he was being quiet. Maybe he just thought humans had shitty hearing.

"She said to wait for Vidal to drop by. So that's what we'll do."

Their colleague returned with the food a minute later, and Sara realized that she _was_ actually hungry. She was ravenous - and fried ahdi apparently smelled pretty good. The exile dropped a standard ration packet in her lap, but Liam caught her eyeing his meal. He grumbled good-naturedly, but he let her steal a few strips of meat. It tasted a little like bacon. There was water, too, and plenty of it - probably shipped in on an ice ship from Voeld.

While they were eating, the salarian developed better volume control. The human exile went to join his fellows, and the four of them whispered together anxiously. Some of Sara's nervous energy was beginning to wear off. Maybe it was just the weight of the meal in her belly, but she didn't think she could move from her chair if she tried.

"We'll watch them," Liam murmured in her ear. "If you want to sleep."

Sara nodded slowly. She closed her eyes tight, because the tears were welling up again, hot and insistent - but there was no fire behind them, this time.

Just despair.

Sara abandoned her chair, settling down on the floor instead. She curled up against a wall. She wasn't sure if she stood a chance at sleeping - but she was going to give it a try.

"Thanks, Liam."

\---

When Sara awoke, the sun was shining in her eyes. Liam was still sitting in the chair beside her, sifting through the remains of an unfinished ration pack. Jaal hadn't moved either, but his eyes were closed. Was he managing to sleep sitting up?

Sara wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but it couldn't have been more than two or three hours. She groaned softly, stretching out cramped muscles, before clambering back onto her chair. The Collective operatives were still clustered in their little circle, but their anxiety seemed somehow more pronounced. The salarian glanced up when Sara moved, his huge black eyes going wide.

"She's awake," he hissed.

And - quite suddenly - Sara decided she'd had enough.

She rose from her chair and stalked over to join them. They watched her approach like she was an asteroid on a collision course. Even Arruxa, who'd been so full of herself out there on the dunes, looked at her like she was a threat. Sara stared her down until the turian's gaze flickered away.

"I want to use your comm."

"You can't do that!" the salarian squeaked. "Classified access. No way."

Arruxa clearly agreed. "It's not worth my life to give you that," she said quietly. "Go back to sleep, Ryder."

"Then let me go."

"Can't do that, either."

"Reyes isn't coming." Her voice didn't break, and her knees didn't give way - but something in her chest crumbled away like wet sand. "You're waiting for someone who'll never arrive."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I'm leaving," Sara told them. Her limbs could have been carved from brittle stone. "You can shoot me if you like, but I'm guessing you won't do that."

With that, she turned her back - and she headed for the door. She didn't have her gun, of course. She didn't even have an omni-tool. She didn't have a rover, and she didn't have a ship. If she had to, she'd walk.

"Ryder. Wait." Arruxa lurched to her feet, chair legs screeching as they scraped across the floor. "It's about to tip sixty degrees out there. You'll drop dead hours before you reach anywhere."

"So give me a rover."

The turian folded her arms, mandibles flexing irritably - like she couldn't believe this human's gall. "Oh, _sure._ As if we had one to spare."

Sara started walking -

"We'll fly you back to the Nexus," Arruxa said hurriedly. "That keeps you safe, so we're square with the Charlatan - and you get to go free, once you're there. Happy?"

Sara couldn't answer that. _Happy_ seemed like a dim and distant thought - but the Nexus had public comms.

She gestured to Jaal and Liam. "Let's go."

"Uh, no." The other turian stood up, too. "These guys shot up Collective assets, Ryder. Can't let them go until that mess is sorted out."

One more petty frustration might shatter Sara like a vase. "Listen -"

"Just go," Liam said. He was obviously exasperated too, but he didn't seem at all afraid. Maybe the fried ahdi had something to do with it. "Get on the comm once you hit the Commons, and tell _someone_ to give these guys the all clear. Sound good?"

Jaal's eyes fluttered open. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping. "Liam's plan is a good one," he said firmly. "There is no need for this to lead to violence."

Sara bit back a sigh. They were right. Get to the Nexus. Get to a comm. Speak to SAM - and hope that he didn't destroy her.

"All right," she grumbled. "Let's go."

\---

The Nexus looked different, somehow. Maybe it was because there were more lights ablaze on the stations' glittering arms, or maybe it was because there were fewer. Maybe it was just the lack of any sense of homecoming - or at least the lack of some sense of welcome. Sara wasn't sure how public opinion might have changed since she'd last set foot on the Nexus, but she suspected it wasn't for the better.

She'd spent the flight sitting silent at the back of the shuttle, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her gloves felt thinner than normal, like the sandstorm had scoured away layer upon layer of alloy - or like her icy skin and trembling bones had worn them away from the inside out. She'd be able to see right through them, soon. Maybe through her skin, too; through the muscle and the bone, right down to the featureless metal at her feet.

She couldn't look at them. She leaned back into her seat, stinging eyes desperately seeking some other focal point. She found herself staring blankly at the ceiling.

If Reyes was dead, what did she have left? Scott, she supposed, and his incredible home in Meridian. Maybe a lonely plot of her own one day, or maybe a man both too much and too little like Reyes. A lifetime spent punishing Jarun Tann for being an unrepentant asshole.

She couldn't punish him for Reyes, though. That wasn't Tann's fault.

That was hers.

Would she ever be sure what happened to him? Could she ever really _know_ what went through his mind in those moments? If it was quick; if he was scared -

Sara started to cry.

She'd dashed the tears away by the time the shuttle finally dropped out of FTL, and she'd almost managed to get her breathing back under control when it swooped down towards the docks. Her Collective escort were antsy. The turians had stayed on Elaaden, but the salarian and the human - Jiln and Chorus, they said their names were - had been ordered to accompany her. Sara expected docking control to lose their minds when Jiln provided the shuttle's ID, because it _had_ to be listed as stolen somewhere, but the man on the comm seemed completely unperturbed.

"Proceed to docking point NX-172," docking control said. "You'll be met on landing."

Their landing platform was only a few station segments along from the Tempest's customary dock. Sara's chest ached quietly as the shuttle descended - but when the thrusters shut down, it was all that she could see or hear or feel. It was the only real sensation in a galaxy she didn't understand anymore.

Jiln twisted around to speak to her. His eyes were wide, even for a salarian - and imploring, too. "Look, um - no hard feelings, right? If the boss asks, we did right by you - yeah?"

Sara shrugged. She didn't want to talk about it. "Who's meeting us?"

Chorus was fidgeting nervously. "Nexus security. They…uh, didn't enjoy the idea of us disembarking unsupervised."

He needn't have answered, though, because Sara could already see them through the shuttle's viewing screen. Clearly, Arruxa had called ahead. There were three uniformed security staff on their way to meet them - along with Tiran Kandros.

"Let me out, then."

Security took her straight to Tann's office. Sara protested, of course - "I just need to get to a comm!" - but Kandros was immovable.

"Are you insane, Ryder? You just stepped out of a Collective shuttle. You're wearing Collective armour. You're coming with me."

Sara kept her rage bottled as best she could as they walked, ignoring the sound of the shuttle departing, but it felt like she was walking the boundary of a black hole. It was pulling her apart, atom by tightly-held atom, but it was pushing her forward, too. Kandros was a stern presence at her side. The other officers clustered loosely around them. None of them spoke to her, and Sara didn't want them to. Kandros had given them orders to try to block Sara from view, and they were doing their damnedest despite the curious looks she attracted. It seemed that the symbol on her armour was something that the Nexus would like to hide.

"Is that Sara Ryder?" she heard someone ask.

"Ryder doesn't have hair like that, does she?"

Tann was alone in his office, seated behind his desk. His hands were on the surface in front of him, clasped - but not tightly. He didn't seem worried in the slightest. Kandros followed Sara inside, but neither Kesh nor Addison were present.

"Where's the rest of your _panel_?" Sara snarled.

"Kesh is visiting New Tuchanka," Tann said, lip curling as though even the thought of the krogan settlement turned his stomach, "and Addison is attending to some business in Meridian - not that we need to explain ourselves to you. After you _strenuously_ denied any collusion with the Collective, here you are -"

And Sara just snapped.

She wasn't entirely certain what happened, but there was a flare of blue light around her clenched fist - and a moment later, there was a gaping hole in Tann's desk. The salarian scampered out his chair and pressed himself back against the screen behind him, mouth working soundlessly.

"I'm _sick_ of fucking dealing with this!" Sara could hear Kandros moving behind her; she swung her hand towards him, palm facing outward. "If you touch me, Tiran, I'm going to put you through a wall. Don't take another step."

He didn't.

Sara didn't take her eyes off Tann. "Listen up, asshole." Her chest was full of fire, but it didn't burn the misery away. It was all still there, sloshing around her ribs and eking through her heartstrings; fuelling her fury like there was octane at her core. "The Collective is not your enemy. The Resistance is not your enemy. _You_ are your own worst enemy, you conniving little bastard - and your Pathfinder could very well be dead right now! But you don't seem to care _._ "

Tann's jaw went slack. "What?"

He didn't know.

"Cora's missing," Sara said. It wasn't quite a sob, but it was awfully close to it - because she wasn't just talking about Cora. "She had time to fuck up one of the two most important alliances you have, but now she's missing." Sara let her hand fall, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Kandros. "I'm leaving now, and you're not going to stop me. You're not going to send anyone after me. I may not be Pathfinder anymore, but I can still fuck things up for you if I have to."

Kandros didn't look happy - but he clearly didn't doubt her, either. "You'd better be leaving the station, Ryder."

"I'd be fucking happy to." Finally, she looked back to Tann. "And one last thing. Whatever _proof_ you think you've uncovered, I think you'll find it's bullshit. Check your god damn sources, Tann - or next time you come after the Collective, you'll find me there to stop you."

And that was it. Ties with the Nexus lying shredded on the floor, Sara headed for a public comm terminal.

She got strange looks as she went, of course. Precious few of the stations' desk jockeys and technicians would know the Collective's symbol if they saw it, but the sight of the pink-haired ex-Pathfinder striding along in an exile's armour was more than enough to turn heads. She found a terminal available outside Vortex - and it seemed her login details hadn't yet been revoked.

For a moment, it didn't seem like SAM would accept her comm request. Direct lines to SAM node would be carefully monitored in times like these; he might very well judge that the risk was too great. The steady _beep_ of the outgoing signal was enough to fill Sara's veins with ice.

"Please pick up, SAM. Please pick up."

When he did, she almost collapsed.

"Hello, Sara."

"Holy _shit_ , SAM." Now that the moment was on her, Sara couldn't find the words to speak. She had them, of course; they were everywhere and nowhere, bubbling up from that hollow in her chest in a helpless, breathless jumble -

"Thank you for contacting me," SAM said. He always sounded so calm. "Pathfinder Harper and Mr. Vidal have expressed great concern about you."

Sara's heartbeat seemed to stop. "They're okay? They're both okay?"

"That is correct. They are both aboard the Tempest, which is currently en route to retrieve Mr. Kosta and Mr. Ama Darav. Are you well, Sara?"

Sara's knees felt suddenly weak. _She_ felt weak, like a bundle of reeds laced together and set alight; like ashes floating away on a sudden breeze. She covered her face with her hands, bracing herself against the comm terminal - and laughed until she cried, tears splattering the casing beneath her.

SAM didn't seem to understand. "Sara? Is something wrong?"

"No, SAM. I'm just -" Sara had to pause for breath. It felt like she'd been drowning since that worm burst out of the sand. "I'm just relieved."

"I am pleased to hear it. I must point out that, according to standard protocol, the contents of this communication are currently being logged. I hope that is not a problem."

Sara was alarmed. "Uh, Mr. Vidal -"

"Is present on much of my footage recorded since the incident on Elaaden," SAM said. "As a representative of an Initiative ally, however precarious, his input will be necessary for Nexus leadership to fully understand the events that occurred there."

"Right." Sara's brain felt fuzzy, but if SAM wasn't worried, then she wasn't either. She sighed. "What do you mean by that? What _did_ occur?"

"Pathfinder Harper and Mr. Vidal were forced to take shelter in a submerged section of the Remnant derelict when an unstable section of hull collapsed. After discussing the issue of alleged Collective attacks on Initiative assets, they are in agreement that the evidence against the Collective could quite possibly have been fabricated."

"You mean that Cora agrees with me?"

"Yes."

"Suck on that, Tann."

"Sara, I must remind you that Director Tann may well decide to review the contents of this call."

"That's why I said it."

"I see." There was a pause, then. "I have missed you, Sara."

Sara wished that she could hug him. She settled for clutching the casing instead. "I miss you too."

"Would you like to hear a joke?"

Sara snorted, almost choking on a laugh. "Sure."

"Have you heard of the band 1023MB?"

"No."

"They haven't got a gig yet."

Sara covered her face with her hands again. "Oh my _god_ , SAM."

"Are you laughing? I cannot tell."

"Yes," Sara lied.

But she was crying again.


	11. Eleven

Sara and SAM must have spoken for nearly an hour. She didn't track the time, but the public terminal was beeping sharply when they finally said their farewells. It was a reminder that her time was running out. They talked about everything and nothing; everything that they could, and nothing that might endanger them if anyone took the time to trawl through SAM's logs. SAM updated her on the Tempest and the crew, wondering aloud if Sara was experiencing any feelings of jealousy. She explained to him how strange it was that he was occupying someone else's head; how she'd forgotten how to exist without his sounding board circuits in her skull. She said the words she'd never share with anyone else.

Cora had stolen something from her. Something deep. Something precious. Something vital.

SAM told her that he understood.

There were moments in their conversation that made Sara want to cry. There were moments that made her want to laugh. She seesawed between emotions like an antenna mapping out an electrical storm - and by the end of it, she was exhausted. She was drained like a battery left to bleed out in the snow.

But she was buzzing.

Reyes was alive. Cora was okay. Sara's friends were in agreement that the Collective were not their enemies. Sara might have burned her bridges on the Nexus, but with Cora on her side, she could work around that.

She had her feet beneath her.

She wanted to talk to Reyes, but she wasn't game to call him from a public terminal. She would need to buy herself an omni-tool to replace the sandy ruin on her wrist before she could even dream of a private conversation. Priority number one, though, was to find a way off this miserable station. It felt a little unnatural, but Sara used her last few minutes with the terminal to charter a shuttle to Kadara. It was pricey, but the route between the Nexus and Govorkam wasn't exactly a thoroughfare.

"Sara Ryder?"

If Sara hadn't been so tired, she might have leapt right off her feet - or maybe shot the man who had approached her from behind. Luckily for him, fatigue muted her response; she turned to face him almost calmly.

It was a moment before she recognized him. It was the lawyer Scott hired to help her prepare for her hearing. "Cable, isn't it?"

He smiled that perfect smile of his. "Call me Aidan." He wasn't wearing a suit today; in fact, he looked as if he'd just stepped off a shuttle. His button-down shirt was wrinkled, and he carried a bulky satchel on his shoulder. His smile quickly faded. "How are you, Sara? I'm surprised to see you here."

"You and me both," Sara muttered. Behind her, the terminal's beeping stopped. Her session had timed out. "But don't worry. I'm getting out of here as soon as I can."

"That's probably for the best." He adjusted his burden, manicured fingers twisting at a loose thread on the satchel strap. "Look, I'm kind of glad that I ran into you here. I want to apologize to you."

Sara shook her head. The words settled over her like weights latching onto her bones - and she didn't want to think about any of it. "You did what you could," she said shortly. "And you didn't have any time to prepare. There's nothing for you to apologize for."

Cable's features twisted in a grimace. "There is, actually. Tann has hired me to help him review some of your SAM logs."

Sara closed her eyes. She took one long, slow breath. She didn't have the energy for a more animated response. "You're saying you're investigating me."

"Not precisely -"

"But that _is_ what you're saying."

"I suppose so." He gave a half-hearted shrug, his gaze darting to the terminal like he was trying to avoid her eyes. "It does look like I'll be working against you, this time."

"Isn't that some sort of ethical conflict?"

"I really am sorry, Sara."

She exhaled sharply. It was yet another splinter under her fingernails, but Sara would weather it.

She had her feet beneath her.

"Thanks for the warning." She offered Cable her hand. "I'll do my best not to take it personally."

His handshake was that of a consummate professional. "Goodbye. Good luck, too."

Sara tried not to dwell on it as she made her way over to the market. She was still attracting some strange looks, but the station's inhabitants left her more or less alone. She bought a sandwich - full of what Sara now recognized as fried ahdi meat - and scarfed it down at light speed as she hunted for a replacement omni-tool. An electronics vendor near the tramway was able to sell her one, and he gave her a discount once he realized who she was. By the time the transaction was complete, the Nexus' diurnal cycle simulators were darkening the sky and lowering the ambient temperature.

Sara didn't know how long she'd spent sheltering from the sandstorm on Elaaden, but she was sure she hadn't slept more than a few hours since leaving Kadara. If push came to shove, she was probably tired enough to pass out in a booth somewhere - but Sara wasn't quite out of options yet. She still had the passcode to Peebee's abandoned apartment, so she decided to spend the evening there. By the time Peebee's door was locked behind her, Sara was ready to collapse.

But she didn't. She peeled off her armour, curled up with her back to the wall, and ripped her new omni-tool out of its box. Formatting the device took some time. SAM could have completed the process in a heartbeat, but Sara was forced to manually re-enter all of her various logins and settings. By the time she was done, it was becoming difficult to keep her eyes open.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Any chance your omni-tool is working?_

-

It was a few minutes before she got a response. Sara was just beginning to nod off when the device on her wrist chimed.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Are you anywhere near a real comm terminal? I would give anything to hear your voice right now._

-

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Me too - but I kind of made Tann mad today. I don't want anyone listening in. I've been so worried about you. Are you okay?_

_-_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_I'm getting a few death stares. Other than that, I'm fine._

_-_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Death stares? Why?_

_-_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Cora tells me I've been excused from Nomad excavation duty. The others don't seem particularly happy about it. I think they're jealous._

_By the way, we picked up Liam and Jaal. Arruxa let them go easily enough once I assured her that the Charlatan didn't send me to smite her. You really gave her a scare. Not an easy thing to do when it comes to that turian._

_I heard you're on the Nexus. Cora has agreed to give me a ride back to my shuttle - I'll stop by and pick you up._

_-_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_I've already paid for a shuttle charter to Kadara. I'll just meet you there._

_SAM told me that everything's okay with Cora and the Collective. Is that right?_

_-_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_You have no idea how that wounds me, Sara. You. *Paying* for a shuttle._

_And, yes - in a manner of speaking. She's agreed to give me the benefit of the doubt, but I'm still concerned. Someone's trying to stir up trouble. I don't like being in the dark._

_-_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_You and me both. We'll find out what's going on, though - and if Cora's on our side now, whoever's trying to frame you is going to get a nasty surprise._

_I'm sorry for putting you in danger._

_-_

His next message was rather slow to arrive.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Danger? I wasn't worried for a moment._

_-_

Sara couldn't help but smile. Her thoughts were turning syrupy and sluggish; just barely pushing the boundary between conscious thought and dreaming. She staggered to her feet and fumbled for the light switch. She didn't bother moving to the bedroom - Peebee didn't have a bed, anyway, and Sara suspected she'd only break her neck on her way there. She sprawled out on the floor instead, lying on her stomach so that she could keep her omni-tool open and at eye-level. She bundled up her scarf to use as a pillow.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_I'm about to pass out. I love you._

_-_

She kept her eyes open just long enough for the omni-tool to sing out his reply.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Sleep well. I'll see you on Kadara._

\---

Sara wasn't sure what it was that woke her up. It could have been the quiet whir of an omni-tool outside. It could have been the light that snuck into the room as the apartment door opened, or the faint hiss of the locking mechanism reinitializing. It could have been anything.

But she _did_ wake up.

And she could hear footsteps.

It took a moment for the world around her to solidify. She was lying on her stomach, one cheek flat against the chilly floor. The room was still dark, and it was utterly silent.

Except for those footsteps.

If SAM had been with her, he would have had all the answers. As it was, Sara had nothing but instinct to guide her. She huddled close against the wall, doing her best to lie motionless. Her armour sat discarded in a heap on the other side of the room, and - _damn it_ \- her gun was over there, too. In one way, though, she was lucky; she was lying flush against the wall that ran perpendicular to the entryway. If someone stepped into Peebee's front room, there was a chance they might miss her.

If she stayed still enough.

If she stayed silent.

Sara held her breath as the footsteps drew closer. They were quiet; measured. It could have only taken them a few seconds to enter the main room, but Sara felt herself growing light-headed.

Until one booted foot landed on the floor in front of her. It was close enough to touch.

A wave of cold washed over her. Someone had broken into the apartment, and they were going to kill her. Maybe Sara could have been accused of jumping to conclusions, but she'd seen all this play out before. Jien Garson had cowered in an apartment just like this one - just down the hall, in fact. She'd listened to her killer approach, and SAM's scene reconstruction had shown her lying dead on her bed.

Maybe one day - one day _soon_ \- someone would stand in this very apartment. Maybe they'd hold up a scanner, bathe the room in orange light, and watch Sara's murder re-enacted.

There were stars spotting Sara's vision. She let out one slow, quivering breath, drawing another as quietly as she could -

The intruder took another step. They hadn't seen her.

Sara craned her neck to look up at them. Whoever they were, they were dressed all in black, their face hidden by a visored helmet. Their silhouette was blurry; almost indiscernible against the darkness - but they were definitely human or asari. Tall, too. They were headed for the bedroom, almost like they knew where they were going. Clearly, though, they'd missed the brief on Peebee's aversion to conventional living.

Unnerving, really, that it might be a simple lack of furniture that saved Sara's life.

She didn't have time to go for her gun. The moment the figure slipped into the bedroom, Sara was on her feet.

And she ran.

She sprinted through the residential area with her hearing shutting down and her blood quickly turning to vapour. Her pounding footsteps shook the elevated floor, but Sara didn't slow; she didn't turn around, and she almost hurled herself down the ramp to the lower level in her haste to break her stalker's line of sight. The Commons were quiet, the ordinary day-to-day bustle dampened by the stillness of the station's manufactured night - but Vortex was always open.

Sara barrelled inside like she was parachuting from low-atmo; like the world behind her was on fire, and she had nowhere else to go. Even at this hour - and it _must_ be early morning - at least a dozen patrons roamed between the booths and the bar. Anan was manning the taps, and Sara breathed a small sigh of relief when she spotted an empty corner near the vats. It was a _shadowy_ corner, too - and that was all that Sara wanted right now.

That and a gun.

Anan gave Sara a searching look as she sidled up to the bar. "I didn't think I'd see you around here for a while, Ryder. How's everything going? You know, after -"

"I need you to do me a favour," Sara shouted over the music. The track was all watery synth and snares. Sara felt like she was stumbling through a blurred-out nightmare.

"Huh?"

"There's someone following me," Sara muttered, and Anan's purple-blue cheeks began to take on a distinctly grey tinge. "I need you to watch the door for me. If anyone even _slightly_ shady-looking comes in, can you signal me?"

"Ryder -"

"Thanks."

Sara holed up in her corner, dragging a chair over into the safety offered by the darkness. She had a decent view of the entrance from here, but she would have really enjoyed a gun. She still had her biotics, of course. She wasn't completely defenceless.

Later, Sara would be horrified by how thoughtlessly she endangered Anan; how she'd roared into the bar like a hurricane with a bullet on her heels, ready to take safety in numbers wherever she could get it. She'd had no guarantee that witnesses might dissuade her pursuer from attacking her. She'd had no assurances that they wouldn't simply open fire.

But that was later. Sara sat rigid in that corner for hours, wondering if the fermentation vats were pressurized, or if they could take a bullet. She wondered if a biotic throw might take her stalker by surprise, or if they'd be expecting it. She wondered what they wanted. She wondered who they were.

Could Tann have totally and irrevocably _lost it_? Had Kandros decided to remove her from the station by force? Or maybe she was getting correlation and causation confused. Maybe the break-in had nothing to do with Sara's tantrum in the director's office. Perhaps whatever shadowy organization or individual was attempting to pit the Nexus against the Collective had decided to remove Sara from the picture.

Just like Jien Garson.

Shit. Maybe Sara was paranoid; drawing parallels were there were none; dreaming up connections between two discrete events - but her thoughts kept coming back to the investigation that SAM had never managed to complete. By the end of it, she was kicking herself. She should have taken the chance.

She should have used her biotics to drive the intruder down into the floor. She should have wrung the truth out of them however she could.

But she'd been alone - _really_ alone - in a way she'd never been this side of cryosleep.

And she was scared.

Sara stayed in her corner until the sun rose. Jittery anxiety and stomach-churning fear slowly gave way to exhaustion as she watched the hours tick over on her omni-tool. Anan studied her nervously for a while, but she must have decided Sara was delusional; she gave up checking the door after the first hour, and started offering Sara drinks instead. Sara refused them all. With precisely ten minutes remaining until her morning charter was due to depart, Sara left the bartender the biggest tip she'd ever given.

She thought about dropping by the apartment to retrieve her gun and armour, but she wasn't ready to do that alone. The intruder was probably long gone, but it would be smarter to return with back-up - and possibly a forensic team.

With SAM.

She headed for the docks at a jog, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She was waiting for someone to shoot her in the back, but she arrived at her departure point without incident. Her asari pilot was dawdling beside her shuttle, one ankle crossed over the other.

"You're Sara Ryder?"

"Yeah."

The pilot's brow quirked upwards. "I love the hair. You need to do your roots, though."

"Says the person with cartilage. Hair grows quickly, okay?"

"Sure." She hiked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the open door. "All aboard."

Sara didn't really relax until they were high above the Commons; until the docking platform dwindled away to nothing, and the comforting darkness of space cut through the simulated skyboxes. She eased back into the seat beside the pilot, the stars blurring into lines as her tired eyes gave up on focus. The pilot sent her a curious look out of the corner of her eye.

"What's got you so antsy?"

Sara sighed quietly. She let her eyes flutter shut. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Right." The asari didn't quite roll her eyes, but her tone of voice said she was seriously considering it. Her fingers danced across the flight console like she was tinkling piano keys, and Sara felt a knot in her lower back finally smooth out as their surroundings were subsumed by a familiar silver-black tunnel. "So what takes you to Kadara? Was all that crap they said about you and the Collective really true?"

Just like that, the knot was back. "Wow. I paid for a flight, not an interro-"

And something behind her exploded.

Sara wasn't sure what happened. Sudden heat washed over her, blue-tinged and painful - and her forehead slammed into the flight console. She might have screamed, but she wasn't sure; her ears were filled with a ringing and a roaring, all underscored by a pulse that dropped in and out like a kett hammer. There was blood in her eyes. Hers?

Her head was spinning. Wait - no - the _shuttle_ was spinning. The inertial dampeners must have failed, because Sara was thrown back into her seat again. She couldn't see a thing. She dragged a hand across her eyes, fumbling to clear some of the slick crimson away -

The pilot was dead. She was sprawled across the flight console, her scalp and spine burned black by the explosion; her body a bloodied landscape against the backdrop of a blue-green planet. A piece of shrapnel like a scalpel blade jutted from the side of her neck. When Sara spun around, she found the rear of the shuttle in near-ruins; only an emergency integrity field was stoppering a gaping hole in the hull.

The Scourge was _everywhere_.

Shit. Sara's hearing was slowly returning. Alarms were blaring all around - but she could still hear a quiet hiss. It took her a second to place it. Stupid, really. She would have thought she'd never forget that particular sound.

It was the hiss of venting atmosphere.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit_. There had to be a hole somewhere - a small one, by the sound of it. If she could locate it -

Shit. She had options, but they all boiled down to how she'd prefer to die.

Did she want to suffocate? If so, she could try to steer the shuttle off its collision course with the planet. But she wouldn't get far. The wreck was held together by the skin of its aluminium teeth, and FTL was utterly beyond it. She might last a few minutes, judging by the volume of that hiss. She'd have time to issue a distress call before her lungs turned inside out.

Did she want to go out in a blaze of unwitnessed glory? At this angle, the shuttle was bound to burn up when it entered the planet's atmosphere. She might be able to find that hole in the hull - and maybe even seal it, if she was lucky - but it would be an extraordinarily short-lived victory. There'd be plenty of oxygen left to burn, at least.

No. When it came down to it, she only had one option.

Sara seized the asari by the back of her charred jacket. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she chanted, dragging the corpse out of the pilot's chair. She clambered into her place instead, frantically scanning the flight console layout. Z-axis thrusters over there; emergency stabilizers here. "Shit."

She'd never piloted a shuttle alone before. She'd never piloted _anything_ alone before. She'd always had Reyes with her; at her side or at her back, warm hands nudging her in the right direction. He'd always been there to step in if anything went wrong. Sara's heart climbed up into her throat as she struggled with the thruster controls. One of them was out of alignment; probably damaged by the explosion.

"I can do this," she snarled.

The shuttle's angle _was_ changing. It was shifting slightly upward. It was beginning to level out - but the angle couldn't be too shallow, or the vessel would bounce right off the atmosphere. It needed to be perfect. It needed to be _right_.

Sara's hands were shaking. Dying alone was something she'd thought she was safe from. Here she was, though, with her lonely mind and a bleeding forehead.

Alone.

She was going to die here, reduced to ash by ion-friction - or smashed against the rocks of a nameless, barren world. Reyes would never know what happened. Neither would Scott or SAM.

Sara remembered what that felt like.

She fumbled for her omni-tool. There was no way there could be comm beacons out here, but - well. She had to try.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_I'm about to crash land. Looks bad. I love you._

The shuttle was breaching the atmosphere. The hull was beginning to glimmer. Sara could feel the stretching air growing hot. It was beautiful, really, once she managed to look past the fear. She was gazing on the face of eternity; staring at the sun without fear of any pain. 

It looked like the stars were exploding.


	12. Twelve

Reyes was really beginning to despise Elaaden. The shear-top bluffs around the Remnant derelict cast long shadows over the dunes, layering the sand in stripes of russet on gold. Reyes wasn't fooled, though; not even the shade in this wasteland was cool. The Tempest's crew were all outside - the ones that couldn't claim preoccupation with some ship-side emergency, at least. They were scurrying around the faint impression of the still partially buried Nomad. Excavating the vehicle would have been difficult under the best of circumstances, but it was proving almost impossible under Zaubray's white-hot radiance. Reyes was too far away to see Liam scowling - but he almost fancied that he could.

Even denied the mountains' shade, the Tempest's interior remained a comfortable twenty centigrade. From Reyes' vantage point on the couch in Sara's old room, they looked like scurrying worker ants - and Cora their biotic-wreathed god.

It felt strange to be in Sara's quarters again; like someone was pouring heavy gas down over his shoulders. And it _was_ still Sara's room, even if Cora might have claimed her title. The new Pathfinder hadn't moved in, and she hadn't moved a thing out of place. When SAM allowed Reyes entry, he'd noted that she hadn't even asked for the code. One of Sara's shirts was still lying on the floor.

Reyes left it there. Eventually, this room would be hers again - and Reyes wanted her to see it.

He _had_ helped himself to the bottle of whiskey Sara kept near the couch, but it wasn't doing anything to lift his spirits. Until Cora saw fit to take him back to his shuttle - something she'd insisted that she would do, but only once the Nomad was back in the sand-free safety of the cargo hold - Reyes was effectively stuck here. He'd burn to a crisp if he tried to make his way back on foot, and he'd never manage to dig his borrowed rover out of the sand himself. Even at the best of times, Reyes hated to be helpless - but it was immeasurably more grating now. He was itching to get back to Kadara.

Someone out there was trying to undermine him; to collapse what was left of the fragile peace between the Collective and Initiative. If they hadn't involved Sara, Reyes might have been able to take some professional pleasure in uncovering whoever was responsible. Maybe. As it was, though, Reyes was furious.

It was an implacable kind of fury, all cold and hard and glacier-heavy. It was radiating outward from his chest like spiderwebbing frost; like a razor-edged corona of crystallizing steel. Hearing from Sara had helped, but that conversation was hours old. He'd contacted Keema once Sara fell asleep, and she was mobilizing every operative he asked for - but hurrying was unhealthy. Haste was more dangerous for Reyes than it was for most people, and he knew better than anyone that conquerors worked slowly. Conquerors worked _carefully_. He turned the words over in his head as he watched the Nomad slowly reappear, worrying the bottle stem in tight-wound arcs between his fingers.

Slow and careful came naturally. Once. If they hadn't involved Sara -

"Mr. Ama Darav is requesting access to the Pathfinder's quarters, Mr. Vidal. Should I unlock the door?"

"These aren't my quarters, SAM. Why ask me?"

There was a pause; a _micro_ -pause, if Reyes was honest - but it was still oddly satisfying. "Sara has repeatedly expressed the sentiment that you and she are the functioning halves of one system. I believe she hoped the metaphor was one that would appeal to me."

Reyes' heartstrings pulled tight, at that - but he didn't let it show. "So asking me is asking Sara?"

"In a sense. I am growing to appreciate abstract expressions of emotion."

"What does that mean?"

"Asking you is asking Sara."

Reyes scoffed - but he did it to hide his smile. "All right. Go ahead and open the door, SAM."

The lock released with a quiet hiss. Jaal's footsteps were soft, but his gait was uniquely angaran; too distinctly syncopated for a human's, and less regimented than a turian's. Reyes turned to meet him, but he didn't stand up. He stretched his legs out as far as they would reach, still working the kinks out of overworked muscles.

"Something I can help you with, Jaal?"

Jaal's expression was severe. He took a moment to glower at the bottle in Reyes' hands, quiet and still and imposing. An uncomfortable silence settled, and Reyes found his eyes drawn back to the view beyond the ship. The crew were still scurrying around the submerged Nomad. Peebee was spread-eagled on the sand, apparently refusing to stand. Liam was tugging on her arm as if he honestly thought it would help.

"I find myself in need of your assistance, Reyes." Jaal used his name like he was bestowing some honorific that Reyes didn't deserve; like simple recognition required truly heroic effort. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

Reyes shrugged. He put the bottle aside, watching Jaal's eyes narrow when glass clinked on glass. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Those eyes widened again - just briefly, but it was enough to reveal some surprise. "I believed that I had gotten…better. At disguising my feelings. I hope I have not offended you."

"Never. Friendly people make me nervous, anyway." Reyes raised an eyebrow, wondering if the almost-joke might crack Jaal's chilly façade - but he got nothing. "Dare I ask what the problem is?"

Jaal folded his arms, leaning back slightly in a stance that Reyes had come to interpret as a sign of angaran discomfort. "It is nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine." Jaal grimaced. "You… remind me of Kadara."

"Hah!" Reyes dragged his hand across his eyes, almost doubling over in an effort to contain his laughter. "Shit. Can you still smell the sulfides?"

" _Yes_."

"Oh my god -"

"It is not funny," Jaal grumbled. "I am in need of a favour."

Reyes' chuckling eventually subsided, although he didn't quite succeed in clearing away his smirk. "All right," he finally managed. "Ask away."

"I require transportation," Jaal began. He didn't seem irritable, anymore - just halting. Reluctant.

Guilty?

"Can your Collective deliver me to Aya?"

"Hmm." Reyes promptly lost interest in the scene out on the dunes. He leaned back on the couch, pulling one ankle up to rest flat on his knee. "We can do a lot of things, my friend - and that does happen to be one of them. But why not just have the Tempest stop by?"

Jaal shifted uncomfortably. Reyes could spot a guilty man at ten clicks out. A guilty angara, he'd spot at fifty.

"It would not be… appropriate for me to ask for Cora's help."

"Why?"

"I have decided to leave the Pathfinder's team."

"What?" Reyes hadn't expected _that_. "Because of the stand-off in Vaalon?"

"In part."

"What do you mean _in part?_ Tann confirmed he would continue to support the alliance with the angara, and Paaran Shie -"

"Knows Director Tann as well as I do," Jaal finished for him. His eyes flashed - or maybe it was just his visor glinting. "And as well as you do. He turned on Ryder as soon as he saw the opportunity. Viciously, and with delight. How long will it be before he does the same to my people?"

Shit. "Listen, Jaal. None of us can afford to sever ties. We need to _build_. We need to expand. As much as we might wish they were, the Kett aren't really gone."

"My people will not allow themselves to be taken advantage of. Not again." Jaal unfolded his arms, letting them hang loose at his sides - but Reyes could see his muscles tensing. "If the Kett return, or when they return, or whatever the case may be - the Resistance will be ready."

"I can't believe this," Reyes snarled. "You're endangering everything we've all worked for. If you abandon the Tempest, your people will take it a as a sign. The Nexus will see it as an omen."

"Understand me, Reyes." His name sounded less like grudging politeness, now. It was more like muted pleading. "I cannot remain on the Tempest, because I cannot expect the goals of the Initiative to continue to align with those of the angara. To linger here is to wait for the day that I am asked to turn against my people. Do you understand that?"

"Well, yes -"

"I expected that you would. What Tann did to Ryder was despicable, and you are in love with her."

It was still like a punch to the gut, even after all this time. That word. _Love._

He did love her, of course. Jaal said it so casually, as if to love was just as simple as to breathe or laugh or touch - but Reyes knew it wasn't, because simple shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't pierce like a bullet or burn like etching flame, and to Reyes it did all those things. It was joy, of course, and safety, and the warmth and life and colour he breathed deep in Sara's arms. But it was terrifying, too. There was a part of him that was a part of her, and that word was a reminder he could never take it back.

Jaal was frowning again. "Reyes?"

"Yes," Reyes grunted. "I am."

He'd watched her crumbling into dust for two tear-stained weeks, and his heart had been aching in time with her sobs. It was like he was carrying a weight around inside his chest; fastened to his vertebrae with loops of fraying twine. Maybe Jaal was right. Maybe it was time that he -

Reyes' omni-tool buzzed. Familiar warmth eased up his spine when he saw it was from Sara, but that slow-drawn, pleasant comfort didn't last for long.

_I'm about to crash land._

And that weight in his chest crashed down through his ribcage like a boulder through a brittle glass gorge. It settled in his stomach like it was trying to rip a hole through his abdomen.

Jaal sounded like he was speaking from far away. "Are you all right?"

_Looks bad._

Crash landing was one thing - but to do it from orbit was another. Sara was out there somewhere, in limbo between the Nexus and Kadara; weightless, maybe, and hemmed in by airless space. Reyes had no _time_. No time to get to her, and no location - which meant no contacts he could call.

"SAM?"

"Yes, Mr. Vidal?"

"Do you know where Sara is?"

"No."

Quite suddenly, Reyes couldn't breathe either. It was like that tether he'd always known was there had ripped the lungs right out of his chest; like his breath was her breath, and none of either would ever arrive.

Like he was losing a part of himself - and he could never take it back.

"Mr. Vidal. Is Sara in danger?"

SAM had no right to sound worried. Maybe he did have a soul, somewhere in between all his quantum encoding and superposed parts - but he didn't have a heart that could contract with fear. He didn't have the lungs to feel that creeping, ice-cold terror, or the bullet-wound breathlessness that turned Reyes' veins to lead.

_I love you._

When had he last told her that?

Reyes stood up. Across the dunes, the Nomad erupted from its grave in a burst of biotics and shimmering sand. Peebee steadied herself on Vetra's shoulder, giggling hysterically. The others cheered - or promptly collapsed onto the ground. Jaal watched Reyes worriedly, star-lit eyes growing dark.

"I need your help, SAM."

Reyes could already see Cora reacting; waving for the others to follow as she scrambled into the exhumed Nomad. She screamed something. Reyes shouldn’t have been able to hear it, but he felt it roll across the sand like muted thunder.

SAM spoke quietly. "We are all at your disposal, Mr. Vidal."

\---

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Reyes was counting every breath. He was trying not to do it; trying to focus on the words of the dock worker in front of him - but even when his focus narrowed down to a diamond point, that plodding one-two count continued unabated. The air on the Nexus docks smelled like eezo oxidation and grease. The pseudo-sunlight was pale and cold.

Sara's message was buried somewhere in his inbox, now; swamped by a flurry of communication from Keema and his other lieutenants.

_We're looking. I promise._

_Nothing in Govorkam or Pytheas. I've got people working through the smaller systems right now._

_Are you sure she didn't take a route around Aya? It could be we're searching the wrong side of the cluster._

_Nothing yet. We're running out of systems, though. I'm sending people to check the loop around Onaon._

_What do you expect us to find?_

Reyes didn't answer the last one.

"Come _on_." Peebee dragged a hand across her eyes. "We're kind of on a deadline, here." She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the promenade, where Cora could be seen arguing animatedly with one of the dock managers. "That's the Pathfinder up there, buddy. She's kind of in a hurry."

The man Peebee was interrogating just shrugged. He was young, but he had the grey-skinned look of a man surviving on far too little sleep. "I can't help you," he said. "It's not my job to know who goes where."

It looked as if Peebee's frustration might launch her straight into orbit. They'd already spoken to dozens of the Nexus' exhausted shipping and transit staff, and they had absolutely nothing to show for it. Tann had demanded Cora visit his office for a briefing, and she had told him exactly where he could shove it - but her defiance hadn't done anyone any good. Nobody had seen Sara on the docks that morning, and no one could explain why the security camera coverage was so spotty. No one had a clue what ship she might have chartered or what route it might have taken. No one gave a damn, either.

How many inhalations now?

Peebee shooed the man away, grumbling about people who walked around with their eyes shut. She turned to Reyes - and punched him in the arm.

"What's the matter with you?" She scowled up at him like _he_ was the reason her best friend was missing.

Again.

Reyes scowled right back at her. It hadn't really hurt, because Peebee wasn't exactly a gym junkie - but it jostled him enough to turn his numbness into anger. "Let's just move on," he grunted.

There was another shuttle on the next platform, and it looked like it was in the midst of cargo loading. If they were lucky, they might find someone with a friend who took charters.

"This is just priceless," Peebee muttered. She wasn't really talking to him anymore; her hands were on her hips, and her eyes were on the ground. She covered her face with her hand again. When she spoke, her voice trembled. "I thought she was going to be okay, you know?"

And - just like that - the anger faded again. It _drowned_. "Yeah. I know."

Peebee let her hand fall, still blinking away tears. "Right," she snarled. "That dock over there, next?"

Reyes glanced up at the promenade. Cora was already gone. "Yeah."

Peebee's comm chimed, and SAM's voice came through. "Ms. B'Sayle, the Pathfinder would like you and Mr. Vidal to meet her in the Commons. We were unable to access the terminal from which Sara contacted me yesterday. It appears that her recent network activity has been erased from the Nexus servers."

"What?" Peebee sounded puzzled, but Reyes' throat squeezed tight with fear.

"This means," SAM continued, "that I am unable to recover the details of her charter booking. Docking control also appear to be unable to assist us. With that in mind, the Pathfinder would like to discuss our options."

"You're talking like middle management, SAM." Speaking seemed harder than it usually was, but it helped to disrupt that rhythm in the back of his skull; to blur out the tally that sounded like a countdown. "You mean Cora's giving up."

"That is not her intention, Mr. Vidal."

"I don't need her to -"

Heavy footsteps sounded behind them. "Peebee! Reyes!"

It was Scott. He was sprinting across the platform, the colour high in his cheeks; huffing like he'd just made the trip from Meridian on foot. He stumbled to a halt at Peebee's side, breathing in huge, shuddering gasps. He clung to her shoulder like he thought he might collapse.

"What have you heard?" he demanded. His cheeks might be pink, but his eyes were like chips of blue ice. They were ringed with red, like he'd ground his palms right into them; like he was choking on the same feelings that crowded close under Reyes' lungs. His fingers bit deep into Peebee's shoulder.

"Nothing," Peebee sighed. "Nothing."

"No one saw her leave," Reyes muttered. "And the records are gone."

"I can help," Scott panted. "Or - I might be able to." He fumbled at his omni-tool, frantic fingers clacking against the interface. "A friend of mine - a friend of mine saw her, yesterday. Well, he's not really a friend, I guess -"

Peebee grabbed him by the shirt, clearly struggling not to shake him. "Spit it out!"

"All right!" Scott didn't even try to shake her off; he just held out his wrist so he could read over her shoulder. "She left the Nexus from…from docking platform thirty-nine."

Something cold was cracking Reyes' spine - but his veins were filling with fire. "Did you get that, SAM? Thirty-nine."

"Yes, Mr. Vidal. With this information, docking control may be able to assist us. Charter ships are required to file a flight path before departure. It is possible that Sara's flight path may have survived the apparent data purge.

"The Pathfinder is already on her way to docking control. She suggests you continue with your own enquiries."

"All right." Peebee let go of Scott's shirt, almost sending him sprawling. She was already moving; rolling her shoulders out of time as she headed for the next platform. "What are we waiting for?"

Scott moved to follow - but Reyes caught him by the arm. Peebee might take that information at face value, but she'd never had to survive on Kadara.

"Who is your friend, Scott?"

"What?" Sara's brother boggled at him, all pink cheeks and blue eyes; too much like his sister, and too distressed to follow Reyes' words.

"The friend who isn't really a friend."

"Oh." Scott squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at the bridge of his nose like he was struggling to make the right neurons fire. "He's the lawyer we hired to help with Sara's defence. It was a two second conversation, apparently. We got lucky."

"Right." Reyes turned to go. "Let me know if SAM finds a flight path."

Scott was frowning. He gestured uncertainly at Peebee. She was halfway to the next platform, and she didn't seem to have noticed that they weren't following. "Aren't you coming?"

"No."

Reyes' hand crept to his weapon as he made his way back to the Commons, Scott's shouted questions ringing in the air behind him. He was itching to pull his gun; to keep it close beneath his jacket, just in case his hunch was right - but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. He forced his hands back to his sides. He forced his hurrying feet to slow.

Haste was dangerous.

He headed for Vortex, making no effort to obfuscate or hide as he weaved through the lunchtime crowds - but he changed tack just shy of the entrance. He climbed the ramp to the mezzanine instead, footsteps ringing on the raised metal; heart rate climbing with his elevation. He wasn't fond of the Nexus' residential area. Peebee's apartment was here, along with the unpleasant memories of SAM's transfer; Reyes' failure, and Sara's desperate sobs. Jien Garson once had an apartment only a few doors down. Funny, how misfortunes could converge like that.

He found Peebee's place unlocked. Reyes did draw his gun, then. He set his omni-tool to silent.

Slow. Careful.

Reyes activated the door mechanism. He darted out of the way immediately, huddling close against the frame. No gunshots rang out. Nothing exploded. So Reyes slipped inside.

The apartment was as empty as it always had been; as bare of furniture and life as an unfinished display home - but he found a suit of Collective armour on the floor outside the bedroom. It took a moment for it all to turn over in his head, but it could only be Sara's. There was a broken omni-tool beside it, as well as a discarded weapon. Its safety was half clogged with sand. Reyes didn't touch anything. He took cover behind the kitchen island instead, trying not to let those reminders of her distract him.

It was starting to feel real, now. He'd lost count of his breaths a long time ago, but the number had climbed too high. He didn't want to admit it.

But he was never going to see her again.

This might be all he had left of her: a borrowed suit of armour and a neglected, rusting gun. Crash landings meant chaos. They meant high-speed collisions and violent impacts with the ground. Wherever she was, her shuttle was certainly a wreck. It would be shattered glass and aluminium, all strewn across the earth. Maybe a hail of eezo, too, and a curtain of still-burning ash.

Reyes closed his eyes. Point-source colours danced across the inside of his eyelids. He needed to calm down. He needed to _listen_. If Reyes' hunch was right, he wouldn't get much warning.

And there it was.

A quiet footstep.

Reyes adjusted his grip on his gun as the door to the apartment slid open. Whoever had opened it didn't enter immediately. Perhaps they were waiting for an ambush, just like Reyes had. If they'd followed him here - and Reyes was certain that was the case - an ambush was only to be expected.

But he didn't expect them to speak.

"Reyes Vidal?"

Reyes pressed his head against the counter. The alloy was cool against his temple. There was something about that voice that made him nervous; that sent a quiet, sourceless chill creeping up the back of his neck. It set his teeth on edge, but he couldn't identify it.

"I know you're in here, Anubis. And you clearly weren't trying to shake me off."

And that was all that Reyes needed to place it: his call sign, pronounced with exaggerated vowels and that thin-edged precision. Cold washed over him, icy and sharp. It ran scathing fingertips down his spine.

"Don't worry," the intruder went on. "I'm not here to shoot you."

"Then what _are_ you doing here?" Reyes tried to control his breathing, but his heart was trying to launch itself into orbit. Seeing a ghost would do that to you.

"I'm here to help you. I figured you'd be grateful for the information."

Reyes scoffed through gritted teeth. _Grateful_. He was never going to see her again. "How did you know what docking platform she went to?"

"I spoke to her while she was booking her charter. I saw the platform number over her shoulder."

"And why tell me about it? How do you even know she's gone?"

"We all have our ways."

"Let me promise you something, Charon. If I found out that you had _anything_ to do with hurting her -"

Something clattered - and a handgun slid across the floor. It came to rest within reach of Reyes' hiding place, but Reyes didn't move. He froze, ears straining like a rabbit listening for a hunter. The parallels left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Look." Reyes knew Charon well enough - or had, once upon a time - to recognize frustration in his voice. "Cards on the table. I've been working for Tann, since the better work's apparently not available anymore. But I want your goodwill. I'll keep your secrets, if you'll keep mine."

"You expect me to believe you?" Reyes growled. The gun was still lying there, and Charon made no move to retrieve it.

Charon sighed loudly. "That's my only weapon, you know. You can stand up."

Reyes gave serious thought to just shooting him, but the chance that he might know something stayed his hand. Either Charon could help him find out what had happened to Sara - or he'd been the cause of her demise himself. Either way, Reyes wanted him alive.

For now.

Slowly, Reyes stood. He kept his gun at the ready, prepared to fire at a heartbeat's notice - but he rose out of cover to find Charon standing with his hands in the air. He looked just as flash-frozen he had six hundred years ago; blonde, clean-cut, and smilingly perfect. Right now, though, Reyes was only concerned with whether he was armed. He stalked out from behind cover and roughly patted him down.

Charon endured it with a smile. "Satisfied?"

Reyes stepped back. Being close to Charon always left him feeling like he'd bathed in engine oil. "Never." He pointed his gun at his forehead. "So explain it to me. Why are you here? Why did you approach the Ryders?"

Charon shrugged. Easily. Confidently. He smiled, but he'd never been good at forcing the warmth to reach his eyes. "Coincidence, I'm afraid. They were looking for a lawyer."

"And the better work's not available anymore?"

"Precisely."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"It's something about my face, I'm afraid." Charon shook his head sadly, like a newsreader lamenting a tragedy - then paused as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. "Does the Pathfinder know about your connections? I've always wondered."

"What?"

"Does she know about _me_?"

Reyes scowled at him. "If you're as clever as you think you are, you'll stay out of my business." And maybe the next part was wishful thinking. Maybe it was stupid and delusional and all the other things Reyes had sworn he'd never be.

But he had to say it.

"And you'll stay away from Sara."

Charon was smiling again. This time, though, his eyes lit up with cold self-satisfaction. "I really think it's you that should be staying away from Sara Ryder, my friend. I hear the Charlatan's got something of an interest in her." He cocked his head to the side, peering at Reyes with exaggerated concentration. "Or is that not the problem it appears to be?"

Another man might have exploded. He might have put a bullet right between Charon's chilling, ice-blue eyes. It would have been the natural response - and if Reyes was honest with himself, it was probably the prudent one, too. He couldn't afford to let a comment like that pass, but…

"Is she alive?"

Charon just shrugged, even when Reyes pressed the barrel to his forehead. "I don't know. Hand on my heart. I really don't know."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No. But the Pathfinder's AI will soon - thanks to _my_ information. You owe me, Anubis."

"Let me be clear," Reyes growled. He seized the collar of Charon's jacket; ground the gun into his skull until his square-jawed face contorted in pain. "Things changed while you were sleeping. A great _many_ things. You don't want to become a problem for me - because the moment that happens is the moment I become a _huge_ problem for you."

"I'm only trying to -"

"If Sara's still alive, I'll thank you. If she's dead, I'll have someone to blame."

Charon grimaced. He pointed at Reyes' wrist. "You've got a message."

Reyes held him at arm's length to read it.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Cora Harper_

_We've got a flight path for Sara's shuttle. If you're not here in 5, we're leaving without you._

-

Reyes shoved Charon away. The urge to shoot him was almost overpowering - particularly when he chuckled on impact with the wall. He was looking at Reyes with something approaching admiration.

"Look at you," Charon murmured. He straightened his jacket and raked back his hair. "Andromeda's been good to you."

Reyes backed towards the door, unwilling to turn away, but Charon didn't make a move towards him. He watched Reyes retreat, still smiling the smile that made Reyes' skin crawl.

"One thing before you go," he called.

"What?"

Reyes clutched at the doorframe in an effort to still his jittery fingers. Despite himself, he was daring to hope.

What if she'd survived?

"I meant what I said before." Charon's tone was lilting, but Reyes wasn't stupid enough to think he was joking. "If she's still alive, you owe me."


	13. Thirteen

_Kalahira_ , the Goddess of Oceans. _Neptune_ of the tossing seas. _Tangaroa_ , _Rán, Poseidon_.

Water.

Intelligent life all stemmed from it, somewhere along the line. All life needed it. It was cradle and sustenance; beauty and destruction. Small surprise, then, that blinkered mortals all revered it; that souls across the universe cried out to it in worship.

It was unifying. It was essential. It was _life_ , like the stars in the sky and the dust of a world still building. Light. Water. Air. There was light above her, now, bending through the water like sheets of pale gold.

The afterlife was an ocean. It seemed momentous, somehow. She wished that she could share it.

Until she tried to breathe.

The world condensed, then. Her lungs filled with water - and, for a moment, her vision cleared. She wasn't floating in a blue-rinsed void; she was trapped inside a shuttle. Light was leaking in through a hole in the ceiling, scattering stars across her eyes.

She kicked. Panicked.

Tried to breathe again -

Her moment of clarity dulled. Her arms and legs felt heavy, like she was weighed down by bracelets of lead. She wanted to swim for the surface; up, towards the light - but the stars were all going dark.

She could close her eyes, she supposed. If it didn't hurt now, it might never hurt again. No more loneliness. No more anger. No more pain.

No more joy, either. No more laughter. No more warm toes or tingling fingertips; lazy mornings or late evenings. No more Peebee, Vetra or Scott, and no more Tempest movie nights. No more SAM. No more Reyes.

Blue light warped between her fingers. The hole in the hull quivered and cracked, widening as sheared-off fragments pulled free. More blue light. More manufactured gravity. It tugged her up towards the surface. She was moving; rising; floating -

But the light above grew dimmer, even as she stretched towards the surface. The sounds of the universe faded, washed away by dying thunder as her thready heartbeat slowed. She was cold. Heavy. Tired. She could hear someone laughing. Maybe she'd finally lost her mind.

Sara blacked out -

Right as a purple hand closed over hers.

\---

Birdsong. It had been such a long time since she'd heard birdsong. On Havarl, there'd been melodies just like it; nocturnal cries that rose and fell with the tempo of the forest. Here, though, the sound wasn't swallowed by the trees. It travelled. It rang like silver chimes on glass; like clean air and starlight and a glittering turquoise sea.

There was something salty on her lips. She tried to open her eyes, but everything was white light and pain. There was a fiery ache inside her chest, like someone had scoured her lungs with a blowtorch, then perfected their work with diamond sand. Breathing hurt.

But she _was_ breathing.

"Hello?"

Someone was speaking to her. A woman, by the sound of it. She had a strange accent; somewhere between Havarl angaran and pilgrimage quarian.

"Are you okay? Are you…are you meant to be so pale?"

Sara rolled over onto her side, groaning a response - but all she managed to do was cough up more water. Her lungs could have been on fire. Her muscles could have been dissolving. "Shit - I can't -" She opened her eyes to find herself face down on a rock platform, mere metres from the ocean. She promptly closed them again. " _Ugh_."

Her rescuer touched her shoulder. The contact was hesitant, like she wasn't quite sure what to do. She sounded a little scared. "Stars," she whispered. "Should I put you back? Are you meant to be on land without a helmet?"

"What?" Sara rolled over again. There was an angara looming over her. She was a young woman, if Sara was any judge, with amaranthine skin and clear green eyes. "No! I mean - yes! I need air!" Sara descended into another coughing fit, spine curling with the strain; her salt-scoured lungs screaming for relief.

The angara frowned. Purple fingers fluttered at Sara's neck, then crept up to her ears. "Gills, perhaps?" She sounded uncertain. "Or… absorption through the skin? No - not for a marine organism. It would make salt balance difficult…"

"What the hell?" Alarmed, Sara scrambled away. "I breathe _air_! I'm a human, not a fish."

The angara sat back on her haunches. She didn't reply directly. She muttered to herself instead, peering at Sara like a scientist studying a specimen. She scratched at one of her neck flaps thoughtfully. "You do seem more alert, at least. Receding lethargy, maybe? I suppose you _were_ drowning." She gave a tentative smile - but it quickly broadened. "This is amazing. I'm going to be… _stars._ I'm going to be famous."

She fumbled through the satchel at her side, retrieving what looked like a jar full of green slime. She offered it to Sara. Her movements were slow and careful. "Are you hungry?"

Sara boggled at her. "I've never been less hungry in my _life_."

The angara didn't seem to care. She gave the jar a hopeful little shake, her eyes full of shocked and nervous hope -

And suddenly, it clicked. If Sara ever got a chance to tell this story, she was going to blame her slowness on oxygen deprivation.

"You don't understand me, do you?"

The angara seemed disappointed. She placed the jar on the ground in front of her. "I guess you don't eat paste, then. Maybe fruit?" She glanced around as if she was hoping something sweet might fall out of the sky.

Sara sighed. The translator in her implant seemed to have survived her almost-drowning, but it appeared the angara's hadn't. Then again -

The angara was staring at her, opal eyes shining with wonder. "What _are_ you?"

Sara went cold. A human shouldn't have been a curiosity.

Perhaps this angara had never _had_ a translator.

Sara looked up. The sun was a bright white colossus, and the sky above her was an ethereal, silver-washed blue - but it was streaked through with swathes of Scourge energy, like red-lashed storm clouds rolling out across the world.

"Where am I?"

The angara didn't answer, of course. Sara could feel those eyes boring into her. She twisted around to avoid them, finally taking stock of her surroundings. She was on a wide, sun-drenched rock platform, removed from the sandy shoreline by at least two hundred metres. Geology classes had always made Sara's eyes glaze over, but the rock beneath her looked like basalt. It stretched out in gentle crests and pockmarked hollows, its surface dotted with innumerable glassy pools. Beyond it rose a red rock escarpment, tall and sheer and steep. It was crowned by broad-leafed forest.

Sara had hoped for familiar surroundings, but she'd settle for breathable air.

She waved her arms around in a gesture that she hoped encompassed _everything_. "What is this place?"

There was no reply. The angara simply watched her curiously.

Sara sighed. She made eye contact, pressing her palm flat against her chest. "Ryder," she said, in a way that she hoped was universally meaningful. " _Ryder._ "

The angara frowned. "So that's what you are? A Ryder?"

Technically, yes - but that wasn't what the angara meant. Sara shook her head frantically. She moved her hands in a circle that mapped out her head and torso. "Human." Her palm went back to her sternum. "Ryder."

Suddenly, the angara smiled. She pressed a hand against her chest, too. "Aali," she replied. She pointed at the jar. " _Food_."

Sara shook her head again. She pushed the jar away. "Not hungry."

Then came a moment of sudden inspiration. If she could bring up an English-Shelesh translation program on her omni-tool, she might be able to shatter the language barrier. She keyed up her omni-tool - and almost broke down in tears. The orange-light interface took shape around her wrist, but there was no connection to anything.

Maybe it was atmospheric interference. Maybe she was just too far away from the Initiative signal buoys. At least it wasn't broken, she supposed - but she couldn't contact Reyes or SAM. She couldn't tell them she was safe.

Aali's eyes looked like they might pop out of her head. "What happened to your arm?"

Sara couldn't help it. She laughed. She laughed so hard that her sides began to ache. She keeled over on the rock as the warm light flickered out, sprawling flat beneath the Scourge-streaked sky. Clearly alarmed, Aali leaned over her - then relented, sitting back on her heels. She studied Sara with an air of sudden comprehension.

"You can understand me."

Sara nodded. "Yes." Her damp hair was still plastered to her skull. Her skin was beginning to dry, leaving her salt-dusted and dehydrated - but she was warm. The sun was in her eyes.

She was _alive._

"There is a…vehicle in the water," Aali said. "I saw it. You came from the sky, didn't you?"

Sara nodded again. "Yes."

"You are an alien. A human?" She pronounced it awkwardly, but the meaning was there.

"Yes."

"Stars," Aali murmured. Her was voice was trembling. Her hands were shaking - but she hesitated, then, her movements growing taut. "Are you…dangerous?"

Sara shook her head. Once, maybe; when she'd had SAM and a gun and the Tempest on her side. Now, though, she was a wreck.

And, finally, it hit her. Her omni-tool was next to useless. Her shuttle was done for. She was alone here, tethered to the ground by gravity inescapable; voiceless and stranded on a world that hadn't heard the word _human_.

Her voice came out ragged. "No."

Aali's expression didn't change. While clearly naïve enough to ask the question, she wasn't quite so foolish as to take Sara at her word. "I will take you to my village," she said slowly, "but you must allow me to bind your hands. I cannot allow you to endanger my people - or _appear_ to allow you to."

"No." Sara's answer was firm, this time. She had enough problems already, of course, and that was reason enough to cling to autonomy like eezo to a burned-out star.

She wouldn't be a captive again.

Aali frowned. "You are an alien," she repeated. She said it slowly; as if she was explaining something simple to a wilful child. "My village can feed you. Clothe you. Give you a place to sleep. But I cannot take you there if there is a chance my people may come to harm."

Sara looked her dead in the eye. She scrambled to her feet, drawing Aali's gaze up with her. She crossed her wrists over each other, holding them out as if offering herself up - then violently jerked them apart.

"No."

Then she turned on her heel and ran.

She couldn't have said precisely why. This was an overreaction, even for the Sara she'd come to be since SAM tore himself free of her synapses - but a bubble of snap-freeze terror was forcing its way up under her ribs. The thought of cords around her wrists made her heartbeat stutter and her throat squeeze tight; made her muscles turn to water like she'd spent another month in zero-grav. She sprinted away like a lightning bug fleeing the catcher, ignoring Aali's startled shout. She stumbled on the rocks, slimy seaweed sliding wet beneath her soles - but she didn't fall. The sunlight threw her shadow sharp and stretched across the rocks.

Every cage she'd ever been in had left her less another piece of herself.

"Wait!" Aali called after her. "Come back!"

Sara didn't listen.

She'd put her body through hell over the last few days, but she outstripped the angara easily. The rocks were dry at their most elevated points, making footing that much surer. Her pace picked up as she neared the shore. The birdcalls were louder, now, and Aali's shouting had quieted. When Sara glanced back over her shoulder, her pursuer was a distant purple smudge.

But the escarpment might as well have been some towering, ferrous blockade. Up close, its height seemed almost infinite; like some rock and soil monument to red stone and time dilation. Its face was smooth and featureless, save for tiny striations in the rock. There was no going up, so Sara took off along the beach instead.

The white sand was loose and crumbly. It caved beneath her feet like stellar dust disturbed, but she pushed ahead anyway. The shoreline curled around a headland maybe half a kilometre ahead. Perhaps she'd find a stairway there - or at least some decent handholds. Biotics could be a climbing tool, if push really came to shove, and Aali had to have gotten down here somehow.

Her lungs were burning by the time she rounded the curve of the promontory. Her pace had slowed, slashed almost in half by the unstable stand, but Sara refused to be deterred. She leapt over the rock debris scattered at the base of the cliff, glancing over her shoulder a final time -

And collided with something hard.

It was heavy, too. Sara was thrown back onto her ass, almost knocking her skull against a chunk of red-stained rock. She lay there for a moment, blinded by shock and sudden shadow; coughing up all the sand she'd somehow managed to inhale.

"What the fuck -"

The thing she'd run into _whirred_ \- then screeched like steel on star-fire. Red light flashed in Sara's eyes. She scrambled backwards through the sand.

Remnant.

And not just one, either. The assembler she'd careened into was backed by half a dozen breachers, and a handful of observers as well. As one, they turned to look at her, their alloyed skulls bobbing and back-lit sensors gleaming. They shrieked at her again, united in metalloid fury.

Sara didn't have a gun. Her biotics meant she wasn't totally helpless - but she didn't have her armour, either. No SAM. No squadmates. No Tempest extraction ready to yank her out of danger. She wriggled away slowly, doing her best to avoid any sudden or unexpected movements.

The assembler screamed once more, and the observer behind it began to glow with slow-stoked fire -

And Aali leapt right over her, completely and utterly unarmed. Hands planted on her hips, she stared the Remnant down like a displeased mother scolding puppies.

"It's okay," the angara said firmly. Sara's thudding heart was still howling for a prudent retreat - but lightning-sharp shock had fused her to the sand. "The human is with me."

"You can _talk_ to them?"

Aali didn't answer, of course - but the Remnant almost seemed deflated. The observer dropped at least a metre downward, as if the angara's chiding really had shamed it. Those angry lights dimmed. The shrieking cries fell silent.

And the whole pack slunk away.

Aali turned around. Her cheeks and neck were flushed, and she glared at Sara like a teenager forced into a gym class she'd rather have avoided. "Why…" She paused for breath, bracing her hands on her thighs. "Why did you run away from me?"

Even if Sara had wanted to answer, she couldn't. She clambered to her feet, staggering several wary steps back - and gestured at the retreating Remnant, hoping her wide eyes and hanging jaw might somehow convey her meaning.

" _How?_ "

Aali seemed to get it - but she seemed confused, as well. She glanced back and forth between Sara and the bots, her brow contorting the way that Jaal's did when he encountered a particularly confounding piece of tech.

"They don't like you," Aali murmured. Sara fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I've never seen them react that way to someone before. Except to the people in the helmets, of course."

Sara's heart lurched; up, then down, as if it wasn't sure which way to scramble. There were _people_ here? Did she mean angara? Did she not?

"People in helmets?" Sara gave an exaggerated shrug, palms upturned to indicate her confusion.

But Aali wasn't going to be sidetracked. "Please," she urged, clasping her hands together in what looked a lot like desperation. "You have to come back with me. If I can… If we can work out how to talk to you, you're the best chance we have. I won't bind your hands. _Please_."

"Best chance you have at _what?_ "

It was useless, of course. "Please," Aali repeated. "Please."

Sara sighed. She went to rake a hand back through her sodden hair - but all she managed to do was tangle it. "Yes."

If Sara hadn't already experienced Jaal's infectious delight, Aali's sudden grin might have blinded her. The angara helped her to her feet, then headed off across the sand with an air of quiet purpose, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to check that Sara was still with her. She walked right through the gathered circle of chastised Remnant, but the bots didn't even glance at her. Sara followed close on Aali's heels, flinching every time a scanner beam swung her way. Relief left her salty lips in a sigh when they finally rounded the headland; the sheer cliffs eased into a gentler slope on this side of the beach. A well-worn path was clearly visible amongst the grasses and leafy shrubs that clung to the hillside.

It was a hard climb. Sara was exhausted - both physically and mentally - and her stomach felt emptier than empty. Her thighs started to quiver less than halfway up the slope. Her lungs were burning, too, and she found herself coughing up still more salt. Aali paused several times to stare at her, her hairless brow crinkling with concern, but Sara waved her away. She was too tired to be embarrassed, and too anxious to be frustrated.

But the fear started to wear off when they crested the hill. The slope was gentle on its inland side, too, smoothing down in shallow arcs that rippled out across the earth like waves. She was looking out at a tropical forest full of slender, broad-leafed trees and shimmering ferns. It lacked the unbroken shadows of the forest on Havarl; dappled sunlight painted the soil in between the denser patches of foliage. Up here, perched on the flat of the sprawling escarpment, the birdsong was considerably louder.

It was beautiful. It was warm.

Sara was feeling dizzy.

Aali hesitated again, but she placed a steadying hand on Sara's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." It was probably a lie, but Sara was too fatigue-drunk to be sure.

Aali must have seen it, because she set a slow pace from that point on. The forest's humid warmth settled over them slowly, but it wasn't long before it felt like they were walking through a gentle rain. The leaves were shedding moisture in fat, heavy droplets that filled the understory with a quiet pitter-patter. In the unseen spaces beneath and behind the shivering foliage around them, voiceless creatures moved. Their motion sent whispers through the forest like murmuring silk.

Sara didn't say anything, but Aali picked up on her trepidation. "There are no predators in this part of the forest." She paused, then, and her lips curled around the human name with cautious precision. "Do not fear, Ryder."

They must have wandered through the understory for at least an hour, leaving footprints in the muddy soil that quickly filled with water. Sara's awareness, once sharpened to a point by fear, was blurring at the edges like watercolour in the rain. She was beginning to wonder if she'd make it to Aali's village before she collapsed.

"Aali," she began, momentarily forgetting that she wouldn't be understood. "How much farther is it?"

The angara glanced over her shoulder. She started to say something - but she parted a curtain of fronds in the same moment, and Sara promptly forgot that she was there.

She was looking down on a steep-sided gorge, its slopes blanketed in dewy green. A monolith rose from the bottom of the ravine, hundreds of metres tall; its peak perfectly level with Sara's suddenly wide eyes. It wasn't the monolith that left her floored, though. It wasn't the sudden drop, or the sunny glare on the structure's surface.

The air was on fire with a million tiny stars; full of glittering points of light that shimmered white and blue and orange. They sent swirling coloured rays dancing across the surrounding forest, like someone had scattered tiny diamonds through the air.

Sara clapped a hand over her mouth.

She'd seen photos of mom in the '50s, posing with the rest of her research team. They'd always had glitter in their hair.

Holding her breath, Sara stumbled backwards. Aali followed, letting the fronds flick back into place.

"Ryder? What's wrong?"

"Eezo," Sara hissed through her fingers. "Toxic."

"What?"

Sara bit back a frustrated snarl. It wasn't Aali's fault that she couldn't understand her, but this was just too much. Monoliths and Remnant implied a connection to Meridian, but Sara had no idea where she was - and no planets like this one existed on the Initiative maps of Heleus. Someone had tried to kill her - _twice_ \- and now there was element zero in the air.

Dust-form. Dangerous.

Refined? Raw ore didn't sparkle like that -

"It's all right," Aali was saying. "The pillars are safe."

"Maybe for you!"

"We'll go around," the angara soothed. "Look - this way, Ryder. We'll go around."

Sara covered her face with her hands. _Shit_.

She was crying.

"Please, Ryder." Aali's hand was on her shoulder. Her voice was low and urgent. "Our world is being stolen from us, and you may be the only chance we have to learn why. I know that you must be scared - but if you will help us, I promise that I will do my best to help you, too."

Sara almost laughed. Aali didn't know what a shuttle was. She'd asked Sara if she _came from the sky._

Eezo in the air. Unmapped monoliths. An angara that could calm the Remnant with a word - but had never seen a human up close before.

"Will you help us?"

Sara lowered her hands. Aali's gaze was intense. Her fingers were digging into Sara's shoulder.

What else could she say?

"Yes."

\---

Sunset was scattering off the Scourge clouds by the time Sara finally clapped eyes on Aali's village. She heard it first, though; the quiet murmur of distant voices, chased by the bustle and clamour of a small town on the slide towards evening. She saw it in Aali's walk, too. The angara's steps quickened. She held her head higher. She cast nervous glances at Sara out of the corner of her eye.

Sara was amazed that she saw it at all. Her head was pounding. Moisture ran in rivulets down her spine. Her hair still hadn't dried, and it clung to her skin like pink seaweed. Her vision was beginning to blur at the edges.

"Are you okay?" Aali asked again.

"Yes." Sara was lying through her teeth, of course - but she didn't see another option.

Exhaustion had worn her down like wind and rain on porous rock. When she stepped into the village clearing - small and compact, but immaculately kept - she wondered if her brain had turned porous, too. Angara of all ages, colours and sizes stared at her as Aali led her past their tidy, red-stone dwellings, but Sara felt none of the wonder she had expected; none of her explorer's electric curiosity, and none of her Pathfinder's obligation to impress. She hardly noticed the hints of Remnant alloy shimmering on cornices and lurking beneath porch steps. She barely heard the hushed whispers directed at Aali, and she ignored her companion's reply.

She was almost unaware of the fearful silence that followed her.

Almost.

Aali led her to a cottage full of tiny, barred compartments. It seemed that prisons looked the same in any galaxy. Sara might have struggled, but her lingering dread and remembered fears sent barely a shiver up her spine. Terror cost effort. Resistance cost more.

There was a bed in the corner of her cell. Sara didn't waste a second; she collapsed onto it with a groan of unspeakable exhaustion.

"I'm closing the door," Aali said softly. Sara heard it slide shut, but she didn't stir. "But I will not lock it. Stay here, please."

Sara didn't respond. The sun was still filtering through the window high amidst the rafters of her room, but she was asleep in moments. She could hear Aali talking quietly, and some voices she couldn't identify. They used words like _human_ and _alien_ and _help_. They sounded nervous.

But fuzzy silence settled over her, and the voices all faded away.

\---

Sara awoke about an hour before midnight, although it took her some time to work it out. It took her even longer to remember where she was; to fight down the rising terror that came with waking in a cell, and to connect the pale quality of the world with moonlight. It wasn't moonlight, though; when she stood on the tips of her toes, she spotted Remnant alloy gleaming in the rafters.

Force of habit had her reaching for her omni-tool, but she had no success. Her spirits lifted a little when she tried the door, because it slid open at a touch. The knotted tension at the apex of her ribcage eased a little as her path to freedom cleared, and she found herself drifting forward on feet that felt somehow lighter than normal. It was like walking through a dream, her lungs full of stardust and her vision tinged with blue; quiet murmurs lingering on the edges of her dusk-blurred awareness.

She wandered outside, almost blind to the detailed angaran stonework. The outer door opened easily, too, but she hesitated on the threshold. The clearing she'd walked through earlier had emptied out, and the space was bathed in diffuse light; green-blue and pale, emanating from pockets of Remnant architecture interwoven with the angara's stone structures. When she looked up, she found herself staring at Scourge clouds. They flickered red and orange in the darkness, almost blotting out the stars.

It was eerie.

Perhaps Sara didn't have real cause to be afraid, but she was learning to always expect the worst. How long would it take for the ground to be ripped out from under her this time?

Sara took a careful step forward, her feet soundless on the moist earth. She listened intently, bones almost vibrating as she strained her ears for any sound; the _whirr_ of stirring Remnant, maybe, or the movements of approaching angara. Hearing nothing, she took another. She moved through the village as quietly as she could, taking the time to examine her surroundings; single-storey, sprawling buildings made from the same red stone she'd seen on the beach, all arranged in loose circles as if their owners were somehow related. Given what Sara knew of the angara on other worlds, she supposed that was entirely possible. The rainforest hugged the village boundaries closely, leafy fronds overhanging walkways and brushing up against the vehicles parked in shadowy corners. The rovers seemed reasonably sophisticated, but she didn't spot a single shuttle.

Angara without spaceflight. It still seemed hard to believe.

"Ryder?"

Sara spun, reaching for a gun that wasn't there - but it was only Aali, her eyes like emeralds in the Remnant-green light.

" _Shit_ \- don't sneak up on people like that." Sara wondered if Aali made a habit of wandering around at night. Then again, Aali was probably wondering the same thing about her.

"I'm sorry," the angara said. It really sounded like she was. "But I still don't understand you."

Sara covered her face with her hands, grinding the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. "Yes. I remember."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Please, come with me. Governor Par Ornan would like to speak to you."

"Good luck to them," Sara grumbled.

"I'm sorry, I don't -"

Sara sighed explosively. Swallowing her frustrations, she flapped her hands at Aali. She hoped her meaning was clear enough.

 _Lead the way_.

She followed Aali to a building just a little larger than the others. It was more ornate, too, with huge panelled windows and a stone-hewn porch that ran its entire perimeter. There were lights on inside. Warmth washed over Sara the moment Aali opened the door, and they passed several other angara as they made their way down polished corridors. She was met with wide eyes and quiet gasps, but none of them attempted to speak to her.

"This is the governor's residence," Aali explained. "His office is here, too. Your arrival has lengthened his work day by several hours."

Aali came to a halt at the end of a long and pristinely gleaming hallway. Sara found herself in front of a pair of glass doors made opaque by what looked like copperleaf backing. Perhaps inanely, she wondered how they kept it from corroding. The angara knocked gently, and a response from inside came immediately.

"Aali?"

"Yes. I've brought the human."

"Come in."

It wasn't an extravagant office, nor a particularly well decorated one, but the sight of it made Sara's eyes widen. It boasted another set of panelled windows that looked out upon the forest, and an impressive array of communications and monitoring equipment along the opposite wall. These angara clearly had computing technology, then - but no knowledge of the stars. Sara was no expert, but the xenoarchaeologist colleagues she'd left behind in the Milky Way would have considered it a strange developmental sequence.

Perhaps these angara didn't hear the call of the unknown. Perhaps the stars' silent invocations fell on deaf ears, here, and their light on eyes turned away from the heavens. Perhaps the Jaardan had wanted it that way, or perhaps a population isolated by the Scourge simply lacked some vital puzzle piece; a suitable fuel oxidant, maybe, although a planet so dense with plant life shouldn't suffer for want of nitrates -

Or perhaps the Scourge meant they hardly saw the stars at all.

The governor's desk was in the middle of it all - and the governor himself was behind it. Sara had expected some amalgamation of Evfra and Paaran Shie, but he reminded her more of the moshae. Sara was a terrible judge of angaran ages, but he looked as though he might be even older than her. He watched Sara just as closely as the moshae would, at least, and rose from his seat to greet her. He lifted his fist in an offer of an angaran handshake, and Sara returned it. The shock was written clear on his face.

It was oddly satisfying.

"What is your name?" he asked.

Sara _wanted_ to tell him that she knew he'd already heard it from Aali - but she didn't have to words to do so. "Ryder."

"Do humans have only one name?"

" _Sara_ Ryder."

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Sara Ryder. Would you like to sit?"

Sara just nodded. She accepted the offered chair, but Aali remained standing; hovering like a nervous mother hen.

"Aali explained how she found you on the beach. You crash landed on our planet. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Was it your intention to join the aliens on the mountain?"

"I didn't tell her about the mountain," Aali said. She sounded a little sheepish.

"I see." Par Ornan shifted in his seat, looking Sara over like he was considering how much to tell her. "A conclave of aliens have established a stronghold atop the volcano to the east." He gestured at the forest beyond the window, but his eyes never left her face. "I am aware that your vehicle is beneath the waves. Before you crashed," he repeated, "was it your intention to join them?"

"No." Sara would have given anything for a decent translation program. _Hell no_ , she'd say. _Who are you? What is this place?_

"Do you know who they are?"

"No."

"Do you know why they are here?"

"No."

It was a rhythm Sara knew well. It was the same rhythm she'd danced to at her trial; a question and a one-word answer, backed by a hollow, sickly feeling in her gut.

Par Ornan dug through the contents of his desk drawer for a moment, retrieving a small electronic tablet, then held it out for Sara to inspect. There was a surveillance image on the screen; a photograph of a shuttle amidst tangled undergrowth, its vertical thrusters burning a swathe of black through the ferns - and a gaggle of people in hardsuits, their faces hidden by full-faced helmets. One of them was a turian; his bow-legged stance and rounded carapace were unmistakable. He was flanked by a thin-limbed salarian. A few feet away stood a human man, and another figure that could have been human or asari.

"Do you recognise these aliens?"

Sara shrugged. It was time to introduce them to another word. "Maybe?"

The governor's lips thinned in frustration, but Aali stood a little straighter. "Wait. Recognise is the wrong verb. Ryder - do you know these aliens personally?"

"No."

"But you recognise their species, yes?"

"Yes."

Aali grinned, glancing at Par Ornan as if looking for his approval - and he gave it, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards in a tight smile. Pride brought a flush to Aali's cheeks.

"Can you tell us what they are called?" she squeaked.

Sara nodded. She pointed them out in turn. "Turian. Salarian. Human." At the last, she shrugged. "Maybe human. Maybe asari."

That earned her a pair of puzzled frowns, but they seemed to work it out eventually. Par Ornan leaned forward on his elbows, fingers laced in a manner that was probably meant to exude composure - but his gaze was intense.

"Do you know why they are here?"

Things became harder, then. _Yes_ and _no_ could only get them so far - even if they seemed to have a good grasp of _maybe_ , too. Eventually, Aali had a stroke of inspiration; she hurried out the door, leaving Sara and the governor to their frustrations, but returned with an older woman in tow. She was a builder, Aali announced - and, on spotting Sara's blank look, explained that the newcomer worked with the Remnant. She read the symbols, Aali almost crowed. If anyone could find a way for Sara to talk to them, she could.

She introduced herself as Eran. Her eyes were bright and clear, and she and Sara soon sorted out a workable pictorial system. They ran into a few cultural difficulties - apparently, it was _not_ a given that an upside-down triangle meant _ice cream cone_ \- but Eran showed remarkable patience. It took a few hours, but they eventually left the limits of _yes_ and _no_ and _maybe_ behind.

Par Ornan didn't sit through the entire process. Aali did, though, those green-rinsed eyes of hers sparkling with curiosity, and she almost stumbled in her eagerness to recall the governor once the process was complete. When he returned, he picked right up where they left off.

"Do you know why they are here?"

An oscillating squiggle to indicate uncertainty. A parabola curving downwards, topped by horizontal handles. That one meant _possessions_ ; resources, maybe, or control. Sara didn't have a symbol for _eezo_ , but she suddenly wished she did. She did have a symbol for _home_ \- a quadrilateral silhouette with a rounded top, rather resembling the building they were in - but she didn't want to use it yet. There was no sense in worrying the angara with musings she couldn't justify, and no sense bringing up fears that might one day be transferred to the Initiative.

It was funny, really, how her thoughts still defaulted to those same old tired lines. Protect the Initiative. Forge a path. Represent the Milky Way's best.

Eran peered at the symbols Sara had scrawled across the tablet. "She is not sure, but perhaps some sort of gain."

"Insightful," the governor murmured. Sarcasm. He hesitated, glancing down at his hands - but when he looked back up at Sara, his gaze was steady. "They gather dust," he murmured. "From the pillars. Then they carry it into the sky. Why?"

Sara sighed. She drew her parabola again, then a tall and cresting wave.

Eran's translation was hushed. "Power."

"What kind of power?"

Sara shook her head. Her fingers slid across the tablet screen like she was thirteen and practising her signature again; squiggle, squiggle, then a sketch of the dust-strewn monolith. She drew the eezo in as tiny stars.

For a moment, Eran only frowned at Sara's masterpiece. "You…wish to learn about the pillars?"

Sara nodded. " _Yes_."

Eran glanced at Par Ornan. After a moment, he nodded, his expression oddly solemn. "And about the dust, I presume."

"Yes."

"They have always been there, Sara Ryder. My people do not believe in magic, of course, but our science cannot explain _how_ the dust is produced. It flows like water from a spring."

Sara drew another squiggle.

"Why? There does not always have to be a _why_ , just as there does not always have to be a _when_. Does your world hold no mysteries for you?"

There was a cold weight gathering in the pit of Sara's stomach. Eezo - _masses_ of it - that the invaders were removing from the planet. Someone was building a stockpile. Somewhere.

To power a fleet? A weapon? A coup? Or to abandon in a remote system, perhaps, disguised as a deep-space kett cache. To lay bait for the Initiative, and for every faction they'd thought to befriend.

Irresistible bait.

She drew another cresting wave, topped by a bolt of lightning.

"The symbol means conflict." Eran was already shaking her head. "She wishes to know if the aliens have done us harm."

"They have," Par Ornan said solemnly. "Closer to the mountain, villages lie empty. Where they expand, we must retreat. The machines protect us, but they are not enough."

Sara tangled her hands in her salt-stiff hair. The tension in her scalp started to ease some of the tension behind her eyes, but all she wanted to do was scream. There were so many questions she needed to ask - and she just didn't have the words.

_Why do the Remnant protect you?_

_Why do they obey you?_

_How long have you lived here?_

_Can you help me get home?_

She settled for another squiggle - jagged, this time, though it wasn't entirely intentional.

Eran shook her head, frowning at Sara's scrawl. "Why? How? I am not certain what she wishes to know."

Par Ornan sighed. "It is late," he grumbled, "and it has been a long day. Aali, see that she is fed. You may have access to my kitchens -"

He trailed off, turning to frown up at the sky. It was a moment before Sara heard it: a quiet hum, quickly building to a roar. A glimmer of fire, bright and elongated, streaked through the sky above them - visible even against the Scourge's flickering light. A second flame burst to life a moment later, following the first towards the ground. Sara was shocked at how long it took her.

They were re-entry flames.

"More vessels," the governor muttered.

"They are not heading for the mountain," Aali murmured. "Are they?"

"No."

They watched the flickering colours arc toward the ground, until their speed dropped and the fire died. The communicator on Par Ornan's desk chimed.

A heartbeat later, Sara's omni-tool chimed too.


	14. Fourteen

The Nexus was already far below them by the time Reyes made it onto the Tempest's bridge. His heart was still pounding; pumping adrenaline that refused to fade or dissipate. Somewhere behind him, Gil was swearing viciously. Reyes didn't care enough to listen. The others had all crowded onto the bridge - all of them, even the krogan; hunkered in any spare corner they could find.

"Take it slow," Cora said to Kallo as Reyes claimed a spot behind Suvi's chair. The science officer gave him a wan smile as he shouldered his way in between Liam and Scott. "We might have her flight path now, but there's no telling where she ran into trouble. We'll have to search system by system."

"What if Sara was _between_ systems?" Peebee asked nervously. "What happens if your shuttle fails out there?"

They all knew the answer to that.

Reyes' voice cracked with disuse. "Her message said she was crash _landing_. You can't do that between systems."

"Which way did she go?" Liam asked. His arms were tightly crossed; fingers digging deep into his bicep.

"Not around Pytheas," Suvi replied. "Was she feeling paranoid, do you think?"

Scott growled something irritable under his breath. "Like you could blame her."

Across the room, Jaal stirred. "Then our route will take us past Aya."

Reyes limited his reaction to a questioning look, but Jaal didn't acknowledge it. Neither of them had breathed a word of their earlier discussion in the Pathfinder's quarters; for Reyes, Sara's disappearance had pushed all other concerns aside, and Jaal appeared to share his sentiments.

"We should send a message to Evfra," Jaal continued, "to warn him of our approach. The Tempest's arrival in angaran space will likely put him on edge."

"Do it, SAM." Cora braced herself on the galaxy map interface as Kallo took the ship to FTL. "Remember, Kallo. Slowly."

But Evfra didn't challenge them on their arrival in Onaon, and they made a circuit of the system undisturbed. The bridge was utterly silent, save for the quiet tap of Kallo's fingertips on the piloting interface; as still and stony-sombre as a scene in a Victorian photograph. Reyes was sure he wasn't the only one holding his breath. Beside him, Liam could have been a statue, but Reyes could feel Scott scraping his nails against a bulkhead.

Reyes wasn't sure what he hoped they'd find. Debris? Some sort of ion trail? If she'd landed on a populated planet, Reyes would have heard about it by now.

Right?

_If she's still alive, you owe me._

"There's nothing here," Suvi said finally. "Have you found anything, SAM?"

"No, Dr. Anwar. I recommend we proceed to the Sabeng system."

Maybe Reyes should have shot Charon when he had the chance. Maybe he should have put aside those lingering fears of dead authority and simply put an end to him. He had no doubt that his long-lost collaborator had only shown himself in the hopes of getting on Reyes' good side - and he had just as little doubt that Charon now realized that would never fucking happen. They'd built their rickety alliance in a galaxy where neither had anything to lose.

But a lot had changed in the two years since Reyes woke up. Even if Sara was dead -

And that - _that_ , right there - was the reason Reyes was so terrified; the reason his heartrate was climbing into triple digits, and the reason the air in here felt so thin. That lingering, desperate _if_. That refusal to accept the inevitable.

He didn't think he could stand to lose her.

Sabeng was empty, too. It was a wasteland in the purest sense of the word; little more than stripped-back husks of rock and argon atmosphere, encircled by eddying clumps of Scourge. The white star cast everything in stark, bleeding white, leeching the colour from the hopeless faces gathered on the bridge. Kallo swung wide around the tendrils of dark energy, but his sweeps were slow and careful.

"No sign of her here, either."

Abruptly, Scott straightened. "I can't take this," he muttered. "SAM - the moment you find something, you'll tell me?"

"Of course, Scott."

He grabbed Reyes' arm. "Come with me," he hissed.

Reyes didn't resist - but he couldn't resist glancing back over his shoulder as Scott dragged him out the door, either. Cora was following them, gesturing for Kallo to continue. Watching them leave, Drack and Vetra looked like greyscale silhouettes painted on the bulkheads. The others stayed fixated on the void outside.

Reyes wondered if they really knew what they were looking for. What would it take for them to decide she was dead?

Scott pulled him into the Tempest's communications centre, Cora's hurried steps ringing on the transparent catwalk behind them. They all tried to ignore the lurch as the Tempest went to FTL again, and the ship-wide shudder that signalled their arrival in the Joba system. Scott didn't stop until he was close enough to brace himself on the central console. He almost flung himself across it, really, fingers clutching at the metal like they were desperate for support - but he turned to face Reyes a scant heartbeat later. Scott fixed him with a blue-eyed glare that cut right through to Reyes' marrow.

He looked so much like his sister.

"Tell me what happened."

"To what?"

"With the lawyer. Cable." Scott's eyes were still rimmed in teary red. "I'm not an idiot."

 _Could have fooled me_ , Reyes wanted to say - but that was unfair, and he didn't want Scott to start crying again. Once they crossed that threshold, there'd be no telling if Reyes could hold his own grief in.

All that aside, Scott didn't have Reyes' experience with snakes like Charon. Hell, he didn't even have his sister's. His life had been lived on the straight and narrow on both this side of dark space and the other, and he'd had no real reason to suspect the lawyer of anything.

"His name's not Cable," Reyes grunted instead.

"Of course it's not," Cora snarled. She claimed a spot beside Scott, looking for all the world like she might explode with biotic fury at any moment. "It's never simple with you, is it?"

"What _is_ his name?" Scott demanded.

"It doesn't matter," Reyes snapped.

He was glad he sounded angry, because it helped to hide the fear. No matter how this ended - if they found Sara alive and whole; if they found her corpse somewhere out there in the void, both frozen and burned by the vacuum; if they found nothing _at all_ \- Charon had the power to destroy everything Reyes had built.

Reyes could have shot him. He _should_ have shot him.

Cora's voice was steely. "What's his connection to Sara? How did he get involved in this?"

Reyes shook his head. "It doesn't matter." Repetition didn't make it sound any less hollow. "But we've met before, and he's not good news."

"And he just _happened_ to know Sara's departure platform?" Cora glanced at Scott when she said it - and the younger Ryder's shoulders tensed. "He has to have something to do with this."

"I'm sure you're right," Reyes muttered.

None of it was coincidence, of course; men like Reyes didn't live long believing in those. Charon was undoubtedly involved in this _somehow_ \- and whatever game the man was playing, he was almost certainly in it for the long haul. Whatever this was, Charon had been working to make it happen for far longer than he let on.

He'd first made contact during Sara's trial. Perhaps Reyes' search for whoever was attempting to frame the Collective needn't extend any farther than that. A stitch-up wasn't out of character for Charon.

But why bother to frame him, when -

Ah. There it was.

Reyes had taken Charon by _surprise._ The snake had planned to frame the Charlatan - but he hadn't banked on Reyes Vidal.

"We can't think about that now," Reyes said firmly. Scott scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, but he nodded hastily. Cora's only sign of acquiescence was a quiet sigh. "If Sara's gone…"

Shit. What was he trying to say?

_If she's gone, none of it matters._

_If she's gone, I'm going to kill him._

SAM saved him from having to finish. "Pathfinder."

Cora flinched. "Yes, SAM?"

"I have completed my scans of the Joba system. Neither Dr. Anwar nor I have found any sign of Sara." That tiny blip in SAM's voice; that infinitesimal hesitation -

Was it fear?

" _Fuck_." Scott covered his face with his hands again, but Reyes could still see him fighting back tears. "Fuck."

Cora cleared her throat. She was blinking back tears, too. "We've run out of places to look. Next stop, Kadara - and we know she's not there."

Reyes' lips had frosted over. His lungs were rusted steel. "That's it, then."

_I'm going to kill him._

"Perhaps not," SAM replied. "Since you received your last message from Sara, Mr. Vidal, I have been attempting to identify the message's point of origin. I am unable to pinpoint a specific system. I had previously reconciled this as metadata corruption."

Scott let his hands fall. "Previously?"

"Yes. If Sara's shuttle indeed crash landed, the event was likely precipitated by severe damage to her shuttle. There are numerous technical or mechanical failures that might have such a result, and all would leave detectable traces. Given that we have found no evidence of this along her flight path, we must consider the possibility that Sara's message was not broadcast from any system in the Initiative databases."

" _No_ ," Scott hissed. "She can't have died out there in between systems, SAM. I can't -"

"Hey. No." Cora put a hand on his shoulder. "That's not what he's saying. Is it, SAM?"

"No, Pathfinder. It was not my intention to alarm you, Scott."

Reyes' hands had curled into fists. He felt like he was about to vibrate right out of his skin. "Get _on with it_ , SAM."

"The Onaon system went undiscovered by the Initiative's astronomy and exploration teams," SAM explained, "due to the obscuring effect of the Scourge. As you are all aware, the Tempest's discovery of Aya could be described as an accident. It is possible that other systems remain hidden in a similar way."

Scott's red-rimmed eyes went wide. "What are the chances, SAM?"

"Without additional data, I can only speculate."

"But it's possible," Reyes hissed. He was suddenly full of vigour - but frayed at the edges, too, like he was about to go up in flames. "Right?"

"Yes. I suggest that we retrace our path."

"Do it," Cora snapped. She turned on her heel, heading for the bridge - and Scott leapt to follow her.

Reyes followed more slowly. "What will you look for, SAM?"

"Anything, Mr. Vidal. Everything."

"That's rather… vague."

"Intentionally so. Would you prefer I be more specific?"

"Just find her." Reyes was finding it difficult to speak. "Please."

There was nothing to see in Joba. The Scourge was a distant memory, here, even if they peered out into the darkness past the limits of the system. Reyes and Scott returned to their places behind Suvi. Scott was chewing on his lower lip. He was shaking, too, like he was standing on the verge of oblivion.

Liam saw it. His brow furrowed with concern as he looked Scott over, his mouth falling open like he was trying to think of something comforting to say - but he clearly came up short. His gaze fell on Reyes, instead, and his expression abruptly hardened. It took Reyes a moment to realize why.

Reyes didn't look worried enough. He'd gone cold, he supposed; hard like the shell of a dead volcano. Liam couldn't feel that tumult inside him. He couldn't hear the sharp-edged litany playing over in Reyes' head.

_If she's gone, I'm going to kill him._

Reyes leaned in closer to Scott. "They say you're meant to feel it, you know. That twin thing."

He wasn't sure _why_ he said it. He only knew he needed to.

Scott didn't move. He just glared at the stars outside, as pale and trembling as an asteroid falling out of orbit.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Still feel her?"

Scott shook his head. "That twin stuff is bullshit," he hissed. "But she's not dead. She can't be."

Sabeng remained just as lifeless and empty as before. Traces of eezo still clung to a deposit at the edge of the system, but SAM quickly dampened any hope that discovery might have stoked; according to him, the element zero was ejected from a ship a great deal larger than a shuttle. They trawled the outermost reaches of the system for what felt like aching, lonely hours, pushing close to the tangle of Scourge barbs near the outermost planet. In the end, they had nothing to show for it.

"Onaon next," Drack grunted as Kallo took them to FTL again. "Last system. Last chance."

"You're such a ray of sunshine," Peebee grumbled.

"Right, though."

"Shut up," Cora hissed. The Onaon system took shape around them as she spoke, silhouetting her in orange light. "Let SAM concentrate."

"He's an AI," Liam pointed out. "He can tune us out if he wants."

"Then do it for me," Reyes snarled.

"Pathfinder," SAM began - and movement on the bridge abruptly ceased.

Cora seemed almost afraid to ask. "What have you found?"

"There are traces of Initiative-standard ion emissions on the nearest border of the Scourge. This would not be unusual for the Onaon system, but this particular trail does not correspond to either Aya- or Nexus-sanctioned paths through the phenomenon. It is possible that whoever left these emissions intended to travel further into the clouds."

Peebee looked like she was about to start climbing the walls. "Was it Sara?"

"That is unlikely. These emissions are less than an hour old."

Maybe it was crazy - but there was a tightness in Reyes' chest that told him he knew exactly who'd come through here. Men like Reyes didn't live long believing in coincidences.

"Follow it," he ordered. "Now."

Cora sent him a warning look - perhaps reminding him who was in charge - and quickly turned to Kallo. "How's it look?"

"Like a tight squeeze," the pilot muttered. "If someone really did come through here, it was in a ship much smaller than the Tempest."

"Doesn't matter," Liam announced. "We're going to find her, yeah? No choice."

Cora snarled something under her breath, visibly restraining herself. "We can't rip the Tempest to pieces while we're clutching at straws."

Reyes' eyes stayed locked on Kallo. "It's all right if you're getting cold feet," Reyes said quietly. "Let _me_ take the helm."

The salarian glared at him. For a moment, everyone held their breath -

"I wrote the book on Scourge piloting," Kallo said icily. "You may want to hold onto something."

And he flew them right into the Scourge.

Long seconds passed in a kind of still and silent panic. Kallo's fingers danced across his interface, but everyone else on the bridge just _froze_. The Tempest was swallowed up in swirling gloom and flickering light as the ship delved through the dark energy clouds, orange flares sending striated beams across the floor. Cora looked like she might have ordered full reverse, but shock had rendered her just as wide-eyed and silent as the rest of them.

Reyes' heart was in his mouth, too - but it felt like he was welded to the floor. There was no turning back now.

There never had been.

"Steady," Vetra murmured, though her voice was anything but.

"We're fine," Kallo said through gritted teeth. "Actually, it's not as close as I -"

Suvi and Jaal both shrieked as the Tempest suddenly _dropped_. Dark energy erupted directly in front of them - and Kallo took them into a nosedive, then a spin balanced on the starboard thrusters; skirting a ballooning cloud with barely a hair's breadth to spare. Reyes grabbed at the back of Suvi's chair as the inertial dampeners struggled to compensate, but Scott wasn't prepared for it. He staggered right into Reyes, almost sending them both to the floor.

"Holy shit," Scott hissed.

"Holy shit is _right_." Liam's voice was full of adrenaline junkie awe. "This is amazing. Are we filming this? SAM?"

"Yes, Mr. Kosta. You may recall that I have been logging continuously since -"

Cora cut him off with a disgusted growl. "He's _busy_ , Kosta! SAM, does the ion trail continue through here, or are we about to hit a wall?"

"The trail does continue, Pathfinder."

His words seemed to ease some of the tension on the bridge, but the relief didn't last long. The tunnel only narrowed as they proceeded, and Kallo was forced to resort to increasingly creative piloting. Reyes was impressed - but it was a thought for another time. For the moment, the universe was nothing but crackling pressure and darkness. Scourge clouds streaked with fire roamed across the bow, buffeting the Tempest like a gale battering a paper plane.

Just as suddenly as it started, it was over. Kallo muffled a sigh as the Tempest emerged into open space again, the red-slashed darkness peeling back like water from a rising shore. A white giant burned off the ship's port side, its outline wobbling when the Scourge drifted a touch too near.

"There's a planet," Scott rasped. His eyes shone with hope almost brighter than the star. "Blue and green. That's good, right?"

Suvi's eyes were on her sensor readouts. "Looks like it has an N2 \- O2 atmosphere," she answered shakily. "And oceans. And _forests_ , too!"

"The planet's atmosphere is characterized by pockets of exceptionally high element zero concentrations," SAM put in. "Resulting fluctuations in the planet's magnetic field are hindering my attempts to scan its surface. It is possible that these fluctuations might also interfere with kinetic barriers and electromagnetic communications."

At the mention of eezo, Jaal's head snapped around. Cora met his eyes, her expression turning grave, and Vetra swore with feeling.

Peebee seemed oblivious - or perhaps she was just too excited to notice her friends' concerns. "High enough flux to interfere with barriers? _Really_?"

Suvi offered up a contribution full of physics and theories and _maybes_ , but Reyes just didn't give a damn. Peebee had already opened her mouth to fire back another theory, but Reyes cut her off.

"Is she down there, SAM?"

The bridge fell suddenly quiet. Everyone was looking at him - even Scott, blue eyes still burning like stars.

"There are signs that a drive core failure may have occurred here recently. Without additional data, I can only -"

The AI broke off. Reyes had never heard him do that before.

"Pathfinder," SAM began again. "There is a shuttle currently descending through the planet's atmosphere. Its presence was previously obscured by the planet's magnetic field fluctuations, but it is highly likely that this is the shuttle responsible for the ion emissions we followed."

Cora didn't hesitate. "Chase it down, Kallo."

The Tempest surged forward like a racehorse from the gate, hurtling downwards into the atmosphere at a pace that would have torn a smaller ship apart. Soon, the shuttle was close enough to see with the naked eye. It was Initiative-issue, judging by its silhouette; wreathed in a halo of pink and gold flames. There were ion-flares curling across the Tempest's bow, too; flickering at first, then blooming as the atmosphere thickened.

Nitrogen-oxygen, Suvi had said. Breathable.

Reyes hardly dared to hope, but he reached for his omni-tool anyway.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Please tell me you're alive._

\----

Par Ornan was still glaring upwards, his weathered features marred by lines of worry. The flames had faded from the sky, but phantom colours still danced across Sara's retinas.

"They landed near the river," he said sharply. "Eran - fetch Varosa. Have him send a party to observe them."

Sara didn't see the woman leave; she was already opening her omni-tool. Its chime lingered in ears, just like the flames lingering in her sight, and her heart was beating somewhere high in her throat. The device still couldn't find a buoy connection - but it was receiving a local communications ping.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Please tell me you're alive._

It was a moment before her sluggish brain kicked into gear. A _local_ ping meant -

"Holy shit."

Sara's chair clattered as she lurched to her feet. The omni-tool sent orange beams dancing across the walls, illuminating Par Ornan's sudden alarm. Sara ignored his narrowed eyes and tensed muscles; she was already tapping out a reply to Reyes' message.

The governor turned to Aali. "What is she doing?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Aali replied. Her voice was high and jittery. "She did this on the beach -"

"Stop," Par Ornan growled. "Ryder! I said _stop_."

Sara didn't care.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_I'm alive! I'm in a village full of native angara. They don't have -_

Par Ornan's hand clamped down on Sara's wrist, dragging the interface out of her reach. "What is this machine?" he hissed. "Are those ships bringing allies of yours?"

"Yes!" Sara struggled in his grip, but days of accumulating exhaustion had taken their toll on her upper body strength. Her arms felt thinner than wax paper; like eezo, salt and mud had drained all the marrow from her bones.

The governor's face darkened. "You called for help," he accused. "You _are_ allied with the aliens on the mountain -"

"No!"

Pinning Sara's wrist to the desk, Par Ornan gestured at Aali. "Fetch one of the sentinels," he began, "and have them take her back to the holding cells. We can't risk -"

But Sara was done with prison cells. She was done with feeling helpless, too; done with rolling with the punches, and done with clinging to the mast of a sinking ship.

It was like lifting a boulder with her bare hands, but she called a biotic field to life around her fist - and yanked free of the angara's suddenly slack grip, her fingers wreathed in pulsing blue. He stumbled backward, almost choking on a cry of shock. Aali scampered away as well, eyes wide with some mixture of terror and awe, and Sara felt a moment of regret. She felt a moment more when her eyes fell on Par Ornan's window.

But she wouldn't let it stop her.

She turned her biotics on the glass and slender panelling, arm thrusting forward in a weak-limbed biotic throw. Shards exploded outwards, scattering across the stone-hewn porch; clattering and tinkling in a cascade of blue and Remnant-green. Sara leapt right through the yawning gap. She didn't bother to check for guards. She didn't look for Remnant defences. She almost lost her footing on the field of shattered glass - but she caught herself on one outflung hand, hot pain slicing across her palm.

She barrelled over the edge of the porch, slipping and sliding in the moist earth beyond it; stumbling into the shelter offered by the forest's low-hanging fronds. She could hear Par Ornan swearing viciously behind her. She could make out more angaran shouts, too; voices that she didn't know, and the roar of combustion engines igniting. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Aali was calling her name.

"Ryder! Come back!"

There was something warm and sticky between Sara's fingers. She was bleeding.

But that wouldn't stop her, either.

Green and black - sharp and hot - lashed Sara's cheeks as she sprinted through the understory. Dense foliage whipped at her legs, and unseen snares clutched at her ankles. The world was reduced to shifting darkness, stinging pain and the smell of rainforest rot, but Sara didn't slow. She hadn't seen the ships land, but she had a vague idea of the direction she should be heading. Normally, _vague_ wasn't much better than _wrong_ , but Sara felt like she'd been falling for weeks. She'd do anything to slow it down.

_Reyes._

There was no time to finish typing out her message, so Sara raised the omni-tool to her lips. She slipped on a patch of mud right before the call connected - and even though she regained her balance, it felt like she left pieces of herself buried in the earth.

But Reyes answered her call. "Sara?"

"Oh my god." The sound of his voice almost sent her to her knees, like her name from his lips was enough to take the feet out from under her. He was alive. He was safe. He was _here_. "Reyes, I can't believe - "

Then she slipped again, and her feet really _did_ go out from under her. Sara tumbled to her knees, then head over heels down a muddy slope. She closed her eyes instinctively, crying out in shock and fear - and heard a _crack_ a split second before the pain engulfed her. She might have screamed again, but she tumbled into empty air -

And plummeted, her heart leaping so high in her throat that it blocked her spasming airways.

She had time for a moment of despair as the air roared past her ears. To come so _fucking_ close -

But there was no limb-scattering impact with the ground; no sudden extinguishing of that flame burning in her chest. The whistling air quietened, and Sara's fall slowed.

She opened her eyes. Thin strips of light encircled her, blue-green and striated. The air was filled with a quiet and familiar _hum_ , but it wasn't until the gravity well gently deposited her that Sara realized where she was.

A Remnant vault.

She tried to stand, but agony ripped through her when she tried to put weight on her left leg. The darkness, the mud, and the maelstrom still whirling between Sara's ears made it difficult to find the precise point of the break - until her shaking fingers felt out an acute angle right above her ankle. She reared back, choking down a scream, and fumbled for her omni-tool.

All it did was blink at her. _Connection lost._

Sara's head hit the floor with a _thunk_. "Fuck."

She could just make out a patch of canopy above her. The gravity well was a shallow one, but that wouldn't do her any good. Even if she stood; if she grit her teeth against the jaw-cracking pain and managed to activate the reverse-gravity function, she'd still be alone, helpless and unarmed up there. Even if her omni-tool reconnected, she couldn't expect Reyes to find her. She'd be at the mercy of her angaran pursuers. Perhaps they didn't mean her harm, but they certainly wouldn't help her.

Sara sighed - but agony lanced through her again, and the expelled breath turned into a whimper.

"Fuck!"


	15. Fifteen

Charon's shuttle lured the Tempest to the planet's darkest side. Reyes had given up trying to maintain any semblance of self-doubt, at least in the privacy of his own head; it _had_ to be Charon's shuttle, and there was no point pretending otherwise. Re-entry flames illuminated their quarry like a pink-gold beacon during the initial descent into the atmosphere, but the fires died as air resistance forced both vessels to slow.

"Have you got a vector, SAM?" Kallo's words, hurried at the best of times, were almost too frantic to follow.

"No, Mr. Jath. Element zero in the atmosphere is interfering with my instrumentation."

"You don't know where he went?" Cora asked. Her voice was calm, but Reyes saw her fists clench.

"He wants us to follow him," Reyes murmured. That earned him suspicious looks from all across the bridge, but he ignored them. "Keep your current heading. Land in the first clear space you find."

There'd been no reply from Sara.

_Please tell me you're alive._

It wasn't long before Kallo found them a landing site. Scott's breath quickened noticeably as the Tempest's forward motion stopped - and he was headed for the armoury before the landing thrusters had even completed their first cycle.

"Lend me a gun, Drack?"

"Sure thing, kid. You know where you're going, though?"

Cora was having none of it. " _Wait_ , Scott." When he didn't respond - or halt his progress - she growled an order through gritted teeth. "Lock the doors to the axial passageway, SAM."

At that, Scott spun - and nearly lost his footing as the Tempest finally touched down. Reyes' eyes didn't linger on him for long, though, and he quickly lost interest in the ensuing argument with Cora; he was scanning the environment surrounding the ship. They were in the middle of a rainforest, so far as Reyes could tell - although the inky darkness made it difficult to discern more than the faint outlines of plant life illuminated by the Tempest's external lights.

Vetra sent Reyes a meaningful look from the other side of the bridge. Everyone else was focused on Cora and Scott - "She's my _sister_ , Cora! She's the only family I've got left!" - and their quiet isolation made her gaze seem somehow sharper.

"What's the game here, Vidal?" She didn't sound accusing - but she was definitely concerned.

"He's playing a game of cat and mouse," Reyes muttered in reply. Behind him, Cora was urging caution. Reyes wondered if the words sounded as pointless to Scott as they did to him. "Right now, he's the mouse - but he'll become the cat the moment he thinks he can get away with it."

"Who is he?" Vetra pushed.

Reyes didn't have the hours he'd need to answer that question - and he still hadn't come up with an acceptable way to answer it. Things were happening too quickly. He hadn't had time to prepare. Sara exulted in the fast-paced and the adrenaline-fuelled, but Reyes preferred to have a plan. Right now, he didn't have much of anything.

_Please tell me you're alive._

Reyes' omni-tool buzzed - and the sound cut through the chaos on the bridge like a laser-drill through glass. Silence descended immediately, like tension had sucked all the air from the room; like hard vacuum had come to claim them just as surely as it had claimed Sara.

But it couldn't have - could it? He had an incoming call -

"Sara?"

The sound of her voice stole the air from Reyes' lungs. "Oh my god."

It was a wonder that Reyes didn't fall to his knees right there. He satisfied himself with seizing the back of Suvi's chair instead. The Tempest's science officer peered up at him with wide eyes, both ecstatic and terrified, but Reyes didn't really see her.

 _Sara_.

"Reyes, I can't believe -"

She broke off on a scream - and the universe turned upside down all over again.

"Sara?" There was no response. " _Sara_!"

The connection was gone.

"She's here," came a voice from behind him. It took Reyes a moment to realize it was Scott, voice ragged and raw with restrained feeling. "I'm going to find my sister, Cora. Stay here if you want, but you've got no right to stop me."

"We're coming with you," Cora replied. This time, there was no hesitation. Reyes would have loved to know why, but he couldn't find the clarity to wonder.

"Vetra," Cora was saying. "Drack. Peebee. Stay here and look after the Tempest. The rest of you - let's go."

Peebee's voice was high and tight with emotion. "That's not _fair_ -"

"Too bad," Cora snarled. "Someone has to do it."

Reyes was already moving. Peebee sent him a look that was equal parts _help me_ and _go to hell_ , but Reyes didn't acknowledge either. Scott made it down to the boarding ramp before him - though only barely - and dug one of Drack's spare guns out of a storage locker. Reyes helped him strap on some unclaimed armour plates while Cora, Jaal and Liam dealt with their own gear. The younger Ryder looked ready to burst into flame at a touch, like a barrel of rover fuel in an Elaaden sink hole. Scott was buzzing around like a docking drone without a signal.

"How are you so calm?" he hissed at Reyes.

 _I'm not_ , Reyes could have said. _I'm silently losing my mind._

"I have to be," he said instead.

"Ready?" Cora's fist was hovering over the console that would open the boarding hatch. "Remember - there's no telling what we'll find out there. If we meet any locals, aggressive action against extraterrestrials is only permitted when hostile intent is clearly demonstrated." It was straight out of the Initiative handbook - and enough to make Reyes' head spin. " _And_ when Pathfinder team members are at obvious risk of injury or death. Got it?"

Reyes had a feeling that last part was meant for him.

"Got it," the others all echoed.

Reyes held his tongue. He wasn't a Pathfinder team member.

And neither was Sara.

"Let's go."

The forest outside was still and silent - so silent that their footsteps clattered like rattling saucepans as they descended the boarding ramp. The Tempest spilled light in a clean white circle around its perimeter, but the darkness beyond was complete. Reyes hadn't spent much time in rainforests, but he had the sense to realize that the silence wasn't normal. Scott seemed to sense it, too; he was peering into the darkness with sudden apprehension.

"Something is not right," Jaal murmured from the bottom of the ramp.

"Down!"

A flutter of movement amongst the trees, a quiet _click_ \- and someone cannonballed into Reyes, knocking him down onto his stomach. A deafening barrage followed.

Bullets.

"Shit." Scott's lips were right next to Reyes' ear. His hand was on the back of Reyes' head, pressing his face into the cold metal ramp. Then, louder: "it came from over there!"

Thunder rumbled along the metal; pounding footsteps, as Cora and the others charged their assailant's hiding spot.

"He's running!" Reyes heard Liam shout.

Scott's weight left Reyes' back. He sprinted down the ramp and barrelled off into the trees, chasing down the receding lights on the Pathfinder teams' hardsuits. Reyes scrambled to his feet, too - but not without caution. He slipped away into the darkness, taking shelter beyond the reach of that sphere of pale light.

It would be just like Charon to circle back around.

Reyes had to stop. He had to _think_. Whatever Charon had planned, Reyes had a feeling he was stumbling right into it.

Why couldn't he just _think?_

_Oh my god. Reyes, I can't believe -_

Charon had failed to worm his way into Reyes' good graces. Realizing that, it seemed his old colleague was trying to kill him. It made sense, in a way - but at the same time, it _didn't_. There were too many threads Reyes didn't have time to analyse; too many possible motives he didn't have time to pick apart.

Reyes pulled up his omni-tool. He still couldn't find a connection to Sara, but he had no problem linking with the Tempest. "SAM?"

"Are you all right, Mr. Vidal?"

"Yes. Look, SAM - I need your help. Were you able to calculate a point of origin for that call from Sara?"

"Unfortunately, no. The connection to Sara's omni-tool was only active for 4.87 seconds. Without the aid of orbital communications installations -"

"A general direction, then? _Anything_."

"Face the Tempest's boarding ramp, and take a bearing of 163.74 degrees. This is the most precise approximation I can currently provide."

"Thank you, SAM."

Reyes didn't run. He didn't _walk_ , either. He was caught somewhere in between; trapped by desperation on one side, so thick that it was almost suffocating, and hard-learned caution on the other. He kept low, ears straining for any disturbance. Distant and unfamiliar shouts blurred into the backdrop of the forest; the squelch of muddy earth, the hum of unseen insects, and the rustle of larger locals disturbed. He was careful to avoid the dangling, moisture-heavy fronds, but he could already feel chilly droplets sliding down the back of his neck.

In the daylight, a place like this might be peaceful. In darkness, though, it was like a sleep-starved nightmare. Every break in the rhythm of the rainforest's heartbeat had Reyes' own heartbeat stuttering, and every dip in the forest floor filled his mind with thoughts of quicksand. Charon was out there, somewhere - and he'd already tried to shoot him once.

A dreadful suspicion began to take shape in Reyes' mind. He'd heard no gunshots on Sara's call, but -

 _Reyes, I can't believe_ _-_

He was beginning a downward spiral of terror and fury when he spotted the footprints in the mud. He couldn't have said precisely why they caught his eye; why they, of all things, leapt out at him amidst the darkness and the quiet - but they did. They started out widespread, as if whoever left them had been running, then merged into a shapeless smear at the lip of a shallow ditch.

Like someone had suddenly slipped.

Reyes skidded down the embankment. The ditch was flattened at the bottom - but there was a deeper darkness as its centre. A hole? Carefully, Reyes crawled up to the edge. He peered inside, finding it more like a well than a hole -

But none of that seemed to matter.

Because Sara was down there.

She was lying on her back, her clothes soaked through with mud. Her hair was plastered to her skull and her face was streaked with dirt - and was that blood?

Her eyes were closed.

"Sara?" Reyes couldn't keep the terror from his voice. If he'd come all this way to find her corpse -

But Sara's eyes flew open. They were like points of starlight in the darkness - and when she smiled, her whole face lit up with joy.

She'd never looked more beautiful.

"Reyes?" Then, more quietly, "am I losing my mind?"

Suddenly, Reyes' head was spinning - but he was beaming, too. "I certainly hope not."

She staggered upright - then cried out in pain, collapsing back onto her ass. Reyes nearly pitched off the edge in alarm.

"Sara?"

"I'm okay," she groaned. When she looked back up at him, her face was pale. Still, she smiled again - and even if it was forced, it made Reyes' heart sing.

"How did you get down there?"

"I fell," she said. On reflection, Reyes supposed that was obvious. "It's a Remnant gravity well. You just step into it. It will reduce the -"

But Reyes had already stepped off the edge. Some sort of anti-gravity took hold of him, slowing his descent like he was falling through water instead of air. A cool breeze rushed up past him, tousling his hair and sending little chills over his skin. Blue seam lights glinted in the walls, but Reyes' eyes were locked on his feet. They touched down lightly. It was more than a little surreal.

He was at Sara's side in a second, crouching beside her on the chilly floor. He reached out to touch her cheek, but she grabbed his hand before it got there - and yanked him forward so sharply that he tumbled down onto the floor with her. It didn't hurt, though; he braced himself with one elbow beside her head, and Sara pulled him close enough to feel her heartbeat. She hooked her arm around his neck.

And she kissed him - or maybe Reyes kissed _her_. He wasn't sure who started it, but he was sure it didn't matter. His head was spinning faster, now, and his eyes were fluttering closed. He wanted to drink in the sight of her - but if his eyes were shut, she was everywhere. She was the tingling thrill racing over his skin and the lilting bliss welling up beneath his ribs; pliant touches and quiet sighs and trembling, helpless joy. Her fingertips slid up over the back of his neck, keeping him grounded as the world around them faded away. Her kiss was slow, but somehow fierce; soft and warm and gentle, and everything Reyes had feared was gone forever.

But she was _alive._

Sara pressed her forehead against his, one hand leaving his nape to ghost along the curve of his jaw - haltingly, like she was afraid they might pass right through him. "I can't believe… _Reyes_."

"You're a hard woman to find," Reyes murmured into her lips. He was grinning like an idiot.

_She was alive._

Sara locked both arms around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck. She made no attempt to muffle the quiet sobs she panted into his skin. "I can't believe you're here." She laughed, then, breathless and near-hysterical; fingers catching as they wound through his hair. "We're a mile out from nowhere, here. And you found me."

It was the perfect set-up for a corny line - _I'll always find you, Sara_ \- but the words caught in Reyes' throat. "I love you," he said instead.

And that said it all, really.

He murmured his next words against her cheek. "Are you all right?"

Her nod was quick; automatic - but she stopped. "No," she murmured. "I messed up my ankle pretty badly."

Reyes was already reaching for his omni-tool. "I'll call the Tempest," he began. "Lexi can -"

"No." Sara pulled him back down to her lips again, her grip on his hair suddenly tightening. She kissed him deep; demanding; _desperate_ \- and Reyes could feel her shaking. "Not yet," she pulled back just long enough to whisper. "Just…stay here with me for a while."

"You need a doctor."

"I need a _break_ ," she insisted. And he could hear it in her voice, really; in the slight rasp underpinning her words, and the way she turned wispy and soft at the end. "Just for a moment, I don't want to face anyone. I just want to _rest_." She pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. "I just want to be with you."

Reyes hesitated. Charon was still up there somewhere, probably leading Cora and the others on a merry chase through the rainforest - and Charon was disaster on a silent timer. All it would take was a carefully placed bullet or a word in the right ear. Whatever Charon had planned, though, he probably thought himself three steps ahead. He'd be expecting Reyes to follow him; to attempt to chase him down and kill him, or at least extract some assurance of his silence.

He wouldn't expect Reyes to drop off the map.

"All right," he murmured into Sara's brow. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, and she smiled sweetly as he tucked it behind her ear. "You've convinced me."

"Good."

She kissed him again, smiling into his lips - and as his spiraling thoughts finally started to settle, Reyes wondered what he would have done if she really had been dead and gone. Life would have gone back to the way it was before, he supposed; full of purpose and power and passing passions - but empty of anything resembling the safety he felt in Sara's arms.

Reyes lay down facing her, arms wrapped tight around her waist; one hand clutching at the back of her head as she tucked her chin over his shoulder. Sara tangled her legs with his.

"I love you," he said again. He wasn't sure why he kept pushing, until she replied - and his heart ached the way that a wind chime peals; sweet and clear and ringing, like she'd struck some crystal sweetness buried deep at the centre of his being.

"I love you too, Reyes."


	16. Sixteen

Awareness crept up on Sara in reluctant and bleary increments. Refracted clarity plucked at the edges of her clean-swept slumber, scattering her consciousness with pinches of silver light. Pale rays snuck in beneath her fluttering eyelashes as the world slowly took shape around her, blinding and soothing by turns - but it was Reyes' slow breathing that finally dragged her from her quiet oblivion. His jacket was rough against her cheek. When her trembling fingers skimmed his jaw, they found him warm and solid.

Real.

The tears welled up, then. They'd been threatening for days, really; pushing at the cracking limits of her self-control and tugging at her tattered composure. She kept her sobs silent - because Reyes needed rest as much as she did, and because she couldn't bear for him to see her break down.

Eventually, that boiling pressure in her chest faded away. Her tears dried on her cheeks, and a washed-out serenity settled over her. It turned sharper when her tired gaze fell on his face; more defined, somehow, as if the world only found its shape in that moment. Light from the world above spilled around them in a soft-edged circle, bathing their mud-streaked skin in dusty silver.

She'd never seen him look so peaceful. If she moved carefully enough, then maybe -

Razor-edged heat flared above her ankle. It must have been pain, but it felt like _fire_. She almost choked on her gasping whimper, but the damage was already done. Reyes' eyes flew open.

"Sara?"

Reyes clutched at her elbow with white-knuckled fingers. He was awake, but bleary; moving with the jerky, staccato rhythm of the profoundly exhausted. The guilt that crashed down around Sara's shoulders was dense enough to smother a drive core.

"I'm okay," she assured him. Eyes screwed shut against the morning light - because even that soft illumination was causing a spike of pain behind her eyes - she nuzzled into his chest. "I didn't mean to wake you."

The tension in Reyes' shoulders eased. Sighing quietly, he wound his arms around her. "I'm not complaining," he murmured, his voice still early-morning hoarse and groggy. "I woke up next to you."

Sara would have groaned - _should_ have, even, if only to reassure him that her brush with death hadn't rattled her hard enough to break anything irreparably - but she could hardly find the air to breathe.

"I still can't believe you found me."

What must it have taken? They were on an uncharted world; perhaps the most genuinely _unknown_ planet that humanity would ever see. Sara was no statistician, but a child could have taken a good stab at the odds.

"I had help from the Tempest," Reyes replied. His breath tickled her ear, gentle fingers skimming her spine. Almost instinctively, Sara tugged at his hair, urging and wriggling and coaxing until he tilted his head to press his lips to her jaw. "And from your brother."

 _That_ took a moment to process. Sara drew back, eyes opening wide to boggle at him. "Scott's here?"

"Yes. It might sound unoriginal, but he refused to give up hope."

Sara wasn't sure what to say to that. For a moment, she just stared at him, her heartbeat thundering and fading as she fumbled for the right words. She couldn't find them, of course. Maybe they didn't exist.

"Thank you," she murmured anyway. It was the closest she could get.

Something in Reyes' expression shifted. Maybe it was his way of saying _you don't need to thank me_ , like any ordinary savior might. But Reyes could never be called ordinary - and they both knew words wouldn’t change a thing. He raised a hand to trace her cheekbone instead, watching her like distant Earth might watch the moon in its slow orbit; comfortable longing held back by some unknowable force. There was something about the way he looked at her -

But he kissed her, then, and Sara forgot how to form coherent thoughts. She wriggled in closer against him. Her bones felt flimsy, and lighter than gossamer; as if a swift breeze might scatter them like ash.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

Reyes' smile was like sunlight on her face - and he was clearly feeling safer, because he didn't say it back. Suddenly, he frowned. Carefully picking his way free of her embrace, he set about examining her ankle.

"How bad is it?" He sounded almost afraid to ask.

Sara made a noncommittal noise, sitting up to eye him warily. If he so much as _looked_ at her foot too closely, she was going to leap into orbit.

Spotting her expression, Reyes rolled his eyes. "I promise not to touch it," he grumbled. His tone might be taken as irritable, but he was smiling fondly - until Sara's weight shifted, and he caught her pained grimace. "We should have taken that boot off last night," he muttered.

Sara pulled a face at him. "A bit late for that, don't you think? It feels like I've got a shoe crammed full of mincemeat."

Reyes winced. "That," he answered, grinning despite himself, "is the most disgusting thing you've ever said to me, Pathfinder."

_Pathfinder._

The word cracked like thunder after lightning, but it drew the shadows in like dark space clawing at the sky. Sara's breath left her in a rush, surrendering to the sudden vacuum - and she hated herself for it.

Too late, Reyes realized what he'd said. "Shit, I -"

"It's okay," Sara said - too quickly. "So much has happened. I can't expect - I mean -"

She took a deep breath.

"It's been a lot."

Reyes clambered back into his spot by her side. Her pulled her into a sideways embrace, and Sara happily surrendered.

It _had_ been a lot. Reyes seemed to have it under control, and none of it exceeded Sara's limits. But it was a lot.

Maybe it was almost too much.

When Reyes broke the silence, she could have sworn there was a catch in his voice.

"What happened, Sara?"

And so she told him: about the unending hours she'd believed him dead; about her midnight intruder and the shuttle explosion, followed by her underwater awakening; about her reception by the local angara, and her frantic flight through the jungle. He asked questions, but not probing ones, content to let her speak until she ran out of words. All the while, the pads of his fingers mapped out soothing patterns on her upper arm. His steady heartbeat was a meter she could count her breaths against.

Until she got to the part about the eezo.

Maybe someone else would have found Reyes' attention unreadable, but Sara felt the moment his thoughts changed tack. The pattern of his breathing subtly shifted, and the pressure on her arm increased. He seemed thoughtful - or maybe just perplexed. It didn't make sense to Sara, either.

Why would Remnant pillars produce eezo? The resulting amplification of the planet's natural magnetic field might explain how this world had survived so long amidst the thickest tangles of the Scourge, but it didn't explain much else.

Then again, maybe it _did_ make sense - if she only squinted hard enough. Maybe Reyes was drawing the same flimsy connections that she had. The Kett cache in the Vaalon system - the cache they'd _thought_ was Kett, at any rate - _must_ have originated here. It must have been collected by whoever claimed the loyalty of this planet's mysterious invaders.

"Yeah," Sara murmured. "I think so too."

"What?"

Sara smiled. "The eezo they found in Vaalon." It felt like so long ago. "I'm sure it came from here - but who found it? There's no way the locals abandoned it halfway across the cluster, so who did? Who baited Tann and Evfra?"

Reyes chuckled. "You must be a witch," he murmured, leaning in to drag his lips along her jaw. His next words tickled the curve of her throat. "To read my mind like that."

Sara glowered at him. Something about his smile made her certain that this was a deflection. "If you're about to make a pun, Reyes -"

He kissed her swiftly, cutting off her protests before she could make them. Sara's smothered sentence turned into a sigh. God, she'd _missed_ him.

Reyes pulled back just far enough to speak - but not far enough to let her lips leave his. "You are _enchanting._ "

Sara caught him in another kiss, groaning as theatrically as she could manage. "And you are the worst!"

It was Reyes' turn to monologue, then. He filled her in on his subterranean heart-to-heart with Cora, and on the Tempest crew's desperate bid to find their missing friend. His explanation was light on details and heavy on embellishment, and Sara had a hard time believing he and Cora cooperated half so well as he pretended - but she lacked both the energy and motivation for more thorough questioning. She could hardly fathom what madness might have prompted Kallo to hurl the Tempest into the Scourge, with barely an ion trail to guide him; hardly credit the risks that any of her friends had taken for her. _Her_.

She wasn't even Pathfinder anymore.

She might have commented on it, or at least reached out for the reassurance that their actions went beyond mere reciprocity - but a sickening realization stopped her.

"They're still out there looking for me, aren't they?"

If Sara didn't know better, she'd have said Reyes looked a little relieved to have reached the end of his recount. He nodded, glancing up at the hole in the ceiling as if he expected to find trouble raining down.

"Almost definitely. We should get you back to the Tempest - but we should have a look around in here, first. I want to know who's been gathering that eezo." His expression hardened. "If I was a betting man -"

"And you are."

"- I'd wager they'll be a problem."

It took a little maneuvering - and a quite a lot of cursing - but they eventually managed to get Sara situated on Reyes' back. She clung to his shoulders like a monkey, doing her best to keep her bad leg out of harm's way. They didn't make it far. Reyes wasn't built like Liam or Jaal, and Sara doubted whether even they could have hauled her back to the Tempest without assistance. She settled for hooking one arm over Reyes' shoulders, instead, and hobbling along beside him with his steadying hand on her waist.

It hurt.

The awe in Reyes' eyes as they moved further into the vault came close to making up for it. They advanced carefully, of course, primed to flee at the first sign of Remnant activity, but the circular chamber common to so many vaults led to an equally empty thoroughfare. From Sara's perspective, it was a little underwhelming; just a wide, low-ceilinged corridor with a gently sloping floor. The shallow ramp led down to a sealed door at the bottom, fronted by a typical Remnant console.

Sara eyed it with little surprise. To her, the green-lit symbols flickering below the surface of the subtly shifting walls no longer seemed quite so much like magic - but to Reyes, the magic was almost fresh. As he gazed upon on the fairy lights, brimming with mute wonder, her weary love seemed somehow younger. He seemed to stand taller, too, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders; like a man leaving gravity behind.

"Incredible," Reyes murmured. His fingertips brushed across the dormant console's interface. "You can use this to open the door, right?"

"Not without SAM." A _tug_ pulled right down the line of Sara's sternum, like a red stripe painted down her chest. "I mean, I could do it - but not without frying my brain."

"That's a no, then. I guess it's a mystery for another time."

Their return to the entrance passed without incident. They headed for the pillar of light that illuminated the gravity well - but Reyes stopped dead. It took Sara a moment longer to spot it.

There was a shadow in the beam.

Sara bit back a shout as Reyes yanked her behind a pillar. His youthful inspiration had died like a snuffed flame; he crowded in against her, pressing her back against the pillar so they were both hidden from sight of whoever was invading their sanctuary. Sara watched that tired-eyed mask come over him again. She heard a quiet _snick_ when his gun left its holster.

Sara would have given a kingdom for a weapon on her own. She managed to crane her neck just far enough to peer around the edge of the pillar.

The tension left her in an instant. "Aali?"

Reyes flinched - and so did the young angara descending the gravity well. When her feet touched the floor, she took an instinctive step backward. Was she afraid?

Belatedly, Sara remembered that perhaps _she_ should be afraid, but the young woman perked up like a child at the sound of Sara's voice.

"Ryder?"

Aali hurried forward, though she clearly hadn't seen them yet. Her gaze flitted across the walls like a moth torn between fire and flight, her eyes struggling to adjust to the gloom. The silver sunbeam cast odd shadows across her features.

"Ryder, we did not mean to scare you. Please, return with me to the village. Par Ornan no longer believes that you are in league with the invaders - but they are attacking us! We need your help!"

Sudden anger bubbled up from somewhere deep in Sara's chest, as scorching and viscous as magma forced from the earth. Reyes was still on alert, his gaze harder than steel - and Sara was grateful for it, because it felt a lot like validation. If the angara wanted her help, they should have tried for _guest_ instead of _captive._ They should have guided her through the forest, instead of driving her beneath the ground.

She was about to say as much - for the satisfaction of her fury, even if Aali wouldn't understand it - when another shadow appeared.

Aali noticed it too. Her emerald eyes going wide, she turned - but she didn't have time to run. Booted feet hit the floor, then two more. Their owners were clearly human, though their hardsuit helmets completely obscured their faces. Both were armed with Milky Way assault rifles.

And both pointed them at Aali.

Sara's heart lurched right up into her throat. Anger was one thing, but Aali -

"Told you she booked it down here," one of the strangers hissed at his companion. "What now?"

The second stranger glanced at him, shrugging as casually as if they'd just strolled into the wrong movie theatre. Reyes' grip had tightened on Sara's arm. She could feel the tension in his every stony muscle.

The man gestured at Aali. "You understand us?"

Aali didn't answer. Sara couldn't see her face anymore, but she could see the angara's three-fingered hands trembling.

The first man sighed explosively. "Great. No fucking surprise there."

"Think it's worth taking her back?"

"Maybe. Boss man might give us a bonus if she can tell him how to turn off the bots."

His friend jabbed his gun at Aali sharply enough to make her flinch, then gestured to the gravity well. "Get moving," he ordered, as if speaking to her like she was hard of hearing would somehow shatter the language barrier.

It didn't. Aali remained stock still.

"Move!"

Sara turned back to Reyes. Catching his eye, she looked pointedly at his gun. Reyes' mouth thinned into a hard line. His eyes flicked downward, but not to check his weapon. He was looking at Sara's useless ankle - and when his gaze came back up to meet hers, she could see his reluctance written plain.

 _Wait_ , he mouthed silently.

Behind her, Aali's tormentors were growing frustrated. One of them was swearing up a storm.

"Just shoot her," he complained to his companion. "If she can't understand a goddamn word we're saying -"

"Chill out. She'll understand. Eventually."

Scowling at Reyes, Sara gestured at his gun again. "We have to _help_ ," she hissed.

The sound made him flinch like she'd stabbed him with a live wire. Glaring at her just as fiercely as she was glaring at him, he pointed at her foot. When he leaned in to breathe his answer against the shell of her ear, his hushed voice cracked like fractured ice.

"I'm not putting you in danger."

Sara would have argued, but it felt like she'd swallowed a stone. The bowstring silence quivered like a straining heartbeat. She understood - but Aali was _helpless_ -

Circumstance saved them further argument. Before Sara had a chance to respond, the Remnant burst out of the walls. They burst out of the ceiling, too; out of alcoves hidden up amidst the blackness, and out of tunnels obscured by pillars just like Sara's. The world exploded in green light and shrieking metal.

Assemblers, observers, nullifiers; they swarmed Aali's captors in a rush of darkened alloy, screeching synthetic fury. The men tried to run, but their hardsuits buckled beneath the onslaught in seconds. Flesh followed after, bruising and burning. Their screams lingered in the air for much longer. They rang off the walls like resonance waves; like alien battle cries reverberating in the hollow chamber.

Sara was hardly aware of herself, but she was struggling in Reyes' grip. She'd forgotten her ruined foot, though it would make the scant metres between her and the angara more difficult than lightyears to cross. She'd forgotten she didn't have a gun. She'd forgotten most of everything, really.

But the robots were leaving. Sparing Aali only the briefest of glances, the horde headed for the gravity well. Reyes' grip didn't slacken until the last robot disappeared into the blinding light above. Sara lurched towards Aali the moment she was free, but her injured ankle gave out beneath her; she staggered, only barely managing to brace herself against the pillar.

Aali rushed to Sara's side instead. Her face had paled to a white-streaked lavender, and her eyes were wide with shock and fear. "Ryder!"

Reyes rounded the pillar. His gun was held at his side, but the look on his face gave Aali pause. They stared at each other for a moment, both wavering in the wake of the sudden violence. Aali was trembling. Blood, wine-red and human, tracked a path down the side of the angara's face.

It was Reyes that looked away first. Clearly, he thought he had Aali's measure. He moved to take Sara's arm again, but she shook him off.

"I'm okay," she snarled. And it _was_ a snarl; a crackling, fragile sound, full of reproach and scalded hurt.

Had he planned to hold her still while they dragged Aali away?

Reyes' face fell, but he backed off. He allowed Aali to approach Sara, though his grip on his weapon tightened when the angara crouched down to examine her ankle.

"It's broken, isn't it? Or are human bones supposed to bend that way?"

Sara snorted a laugh. It hurt.

"I am unhurt," Aali informed her. It appeared that some questions _could_ be asked without words. "The machines would never harm me, Ryder. But they may try to hurt you - unless you have an angaran escort."

Sara tried to smile, but all she managed was a grimace.

Reyes glanced at her sharply. "It's time we made our exit," he muttered. Spotting Aali's incomprehension, he gestured at the gravity well. "How do we ask her if it's safe?"

Sara shrugged - but an idea struck her. She hobbled towards the well - grudgingly accepting Reyes' help in avoiding the two corpses - until she could kneel on the edge of the silver-light circle on the floor. The dust here was thick enough to spread. With the tip of her finger, she drew some symbols in the grime: a cresting wave topped with a lightning bolt, and a single oscillating squiggle.

Aali peered at the symbols for a moment, clearly struggling to recall the details of their pictorial language. Sara waited until the angara met her eyes again, then pointed at the hole in the ceiling. The silence stretched for so long that she began to lose hope.

Finally, Aali replied. "The machines will have moved away to search the area. Is that what you are asking?"

Sara could have kissed her. She settled for struggling to her feet instead, leaning heavily on Reyes' shoulder.

"She should go first," Reyes said. "If the Remnant are up there -"

Sara pretended not to hear. She stepped into the well, maintaining her balance on force of will alone. The mechanism launched her skyward immediately.

"Sara!"

She emerged into warmth and midmorning sun. Foliage surrounded her, gleaming with unshed moisture and stirred by a gentle breeze. The well deposited her on her hands and knees, but neither mud nor shooting pain could ruin the atmosphere. She could hear fighting in the distance, though; the telltale sound of gunfire exchanged and Remnant weapons fired - and when she looked up, her sundrenched eyes found shuttles in the sky.

For a moment, all she could do was stare.

There were dozens of them, all illuminated against the backdrop of the slowly drifting Scourge. The vessels were of varied size and design, but the force was simply too large to be a ragtag invaders' fleet. Some of the ships were clearly Initiative, and others were of Resistance make. Still more boasted the rounded silhouette and sleek efficiency of angaran spacecraft, but lacked the Resistance's numerical identifiers. The locals weren't spacefarers, though, which meant -

Roekaar.

No - Sara wasn't looking at one fleet. She was looking at three.

 _That_ ruined the atmosphere.

Reyes's feet hit the earth beside her a heartbeat later. He took a moment to look Sara over, his eyes full of what could have been frustration but was probably hurt - until the sounds of battle reached his ears as well. He glanced up, and Sara watched the line of his jaw tighten. Aali emerged from the vault with a gasp, her wide eyes trained on the steel-flecked sky.

Reyes' omni-tool beeped. A moment later, so did Sara's.

"What _now_?" Without once taking his eyes from the fleets, Reyes moved to open his message - but stopped at a metallic _shriek_ from the trees behind them.

Sara whipped around, barely managing to avoid tumbling face first into the mud, but Reyes didn't give her a chance to search for the source of the noise. Seizing her around the waist, he dragged her in the opposite direction. They staggered right into the densest part of the surrounding forest; into inky shadows and obscuring fronds, where the sticky darkness quickly swallowed them. They didn't get far, of course. Sara's ankle gave out again almost the moment the wall of foliage closed behind them. Gasping out a curse, Sara collapsed onto the dirt. Reyes was pulled down with her.

But Aali was still out in the open. Sara could just barely discern the shape of her through the curtain of interlaced fronds. She scrambled onto her haunches, intending to call out to her -

Reyes' hand came down over her mouth. He dragged her down beside him and pressed her flat against the earth, leaning over her like he thought his broader shoulders might shield her from some powerful and unknown threat; like protecting her was protecting _him_ , at least from whatever demons had dogged him since she'd said what she thought was goodbye. The taste of sweat and dirt was overpowering, and Reyes' ragged breathing scraped over her like sandpaper. His eyes were wide and panicky; turned dark by the shifting shadows - or by that coiling fear pulling tight around his throat.

And that's what it was. Sara knew, because Sara felt it too. She hadn't stopped feeling it since they took SAM away.

She reached up to tug at his wrist, intending to force his hand down - but sudden realization raced across Reyes' features. He flinched away, fingers hovering in the humid air between them. He was shaking.

"Sara, I -"

"I know."

They were silenced by another shriek. More Remnant emerged into the clearing, their angular silhouettes blocking Aali from view. Sara breathed a sigh of relief, because they made no move to hurt her; they milled around her instead, mapping concentric circles through the clearing. Their circuitous, methodical routes resembled those of a Keeper on the hunt for decaying components - or a C-Sec rookie on patrol.

The Remnant were searching for something.

An observer came to an abrupt stop just beyond Sara and Reyes' hiding spot. Its segmented tentacles twitching in apparent irritation, it gave a grating, metallic _groan._ Its fellows froze, then turned as one to face the observer that gave the alarm.

Sara felt Reyes reach for his gun, but there were far too many for one man to fight off. Sara had her biotics, of course, but she'd hardly eaten in days. She could barely stand, let alone make a run for it.

Suddenly, another Remnant shrieked - but this call was a distant one, and it came from off in the trees. Sara couldn't be sure, but she thought it came from somewhere in the direction of the angaran village. The robots in the clearing leapt to attention immediately, forming a phalanx of dully gleaming metal before charging off into the forest. Reyes breathed a gusty sigh the moment the last of them vanished amidst the green, but it felt like much longer than that before Sara could breathe again.

She wanted to go home. At this point, she didn't give a damn which home it was - but if the Initiative and Resistance were here; if the _Roekaar_ were here -

"Ryder? Are you all right?" Aali was peering through the fronds, her expression caught somewhere between uncertainty and concern. Her frown only deepened when Sara pushed Reyes off her.

"I'm fine," Sara grunted.

It was the biggest lie she'd ever told. Pain was radiating out from her injury in needle-sharp, molten-hot spears. She could still taste the dirt Reyes had smeared across her lips. She could still feel him pinning her. Restraining her.

So she said it again. _Louder_. "I'm fine."

She opened her omni-tool - and a weight as cold as dark space settled in the pit of her stomach. The message she'd received earlier was an automated distress call.

It was from Cora.

_Pathfinder Cora Harper, requesting urgent assistance. Broadcast coordinates attached._

Long moments passed in which Sara couldn't seem to move a muscle. If Cora was out there somewhere - and in _danger_ \- Scott was probably with her. He had to be. What was it Reyes had said?

 _He refused to give up hope_.

Sara looked up to find Reyes staring at his omni-tool as well. His jaw was set, and his eyes were narrowed. His lips had thinned to a hard line.

Sara tried to stand - but her injured ankle couldn't bear her weight. Her breath was coming in shaky gasps, the oxygen scorching and scouring on its way down her throat. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears. Glancing up as if waking from a trance, Reyes reached out to soothe her - but Sara flinched away.

His expression wouldn't have been out of place on a man who'd been stabbed.

"Scott," Sara managed. Her brother's name came out choking; searing; _pained_. She'd never felt so helpless -

Not since that asteroid in Remav.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, in a pocket of lucidity removed from the chaos that burned through the rest of her, Sara wondered if Reyes could see it. She wondered if he realized what it did to her to be powerless; to have her choices taken away from her, without chance or hope to reclaim them. Did he feel it running through her when he pinned her to the ground?

Reyes' face had turned unreadable; blank like a slate wiped clean and flash-frozen. He'd always been good at hiding his feelings - but it had been months since he'd done it with Sara.

"I can't help them," Sara gasped. She gestured at her foot, wishing she could read a response in those inscrutable amber eyes. "You'll have to go without me, Reyes. They need you."

But Reyes shook his head. He knelt beside Sara, holstering his gun, and reached out to sling her arm over his shoulders. "They'll have to get by without me," he muttered. "I'm not leaving you here."

Sara bit back a sob as he hauled her to her feet. Clinging to his collar with one hand, she seized the front of his jacket with the other. " _Please_."

Sara wasn't above begging. Not for this.

Reyes' mask was slipping away. There was clearly something pulling at him; something sharp-edged and terrible, like a knife held to his throat. Sara could see the traces of it hiding in his eyes. She understood that her disappearance had scared him - but this was something else.

Why was he so afraid?

"Please," she repeated. She was clinging to him so tightly that her fingertips were turning numb. "If anything happens to Scott - or Cora, or Liam, or the others - it will be _my_ fault. I can't live with that, Reyes, and you're the only one that can -"

She broke off on a sob, nearly blinded by stinging tears, but Reyes' answering sigh was one of defeat. He murmured a question into the curve of her neck.

"Would the angara take you back to the Tempest?"

Aali was watching them with wide and questioning eyes, plucking nervously at her sleeves. Sara didn't know how to begin to ask. They didn't have a symbol for _help_. They didn't have a symbol for _injured._ They didn't have a symbol for _ship._

But it seemed they didn't need them. Aali knew what helplessness looked like. When Reyes unlooped Sara's arm from around his neck, looking expectantly at the angara, Aali stepped into the vacated space without hesitation. She accepted Sara's weight easily. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

"Wherever you wish to go," Aali murmured. "I will help you. I will trust that you will then help _us_."

Sara nodded. Turning to Reyes, she offered a weak smile. "Thank you."

"I'm sending the coordinates to your omni-tool," Reyes told her. His fingers trembled as they danced across the interface. "Promise me that you'll be careful. That if anything goes wrong, you'll hide."

"Of course I -"

"Promise me."

Sara hesitated. He was looking at her in a way that he never had before; like he was crumbling at the edges, scattering dust whenever he moved; like he was holding himself together with fraying strands of self-control.

He was looking at her like he thought this was goodbye.

"I promise."

He leaned in to kiss her, fingertips coming up to trace her jawline. It was a gentle, tender kiss, empty of any of the force she'd somehow expected. It was full of other things, though; of unspoken feelings, and a hint of regret.

Something was wrong.

"Reyes -"

"Remember. You promised."

And then he was gone, hurrying off into the trees in pursuit of Cora's distress call. The foliage swallowed him up with a barely a whisper to herald his passing. Brief moments passed in silence - and in a heartbeat, it was as if he was never there at all.

Sara couldn't shake the feeling that she'd made a terrible mistake.


	17. Seventeen

Sara would never have described herself as an optimistic person. She made tries at it, of course, because the eldest child of Alec Ryder could never be allowed to submit to outright pessimism, but she usually hovered somewhere between fragile doubt and bullish determination. Right now, though, she was desperately looking for silver linings.

She'd found one, at least. Her injured leg still hurt like hell, but it was starting to go numb. From that perspective, things were looking up.

Aali was doing her best to haul Sara through the gaps between the trees, but it was difficult for her to be both gentle and swift. Every staggering step sent a jolt of pain snapping up Sara's calf, and her shrieking nerves were growing hoarse. She kept telling herself they were going to make it. The Tempest couldn't be _that_ far away, right? If Reyes had pointed them in the right direction -

Reyes. Scott. Cora.

Sara tried not to think about them. Silver linings were the order of the day, and Sara had just identified another. The world was turning blurry. Maybe she was going to pass out.

She didn't realize how far gone she was until Aali practically shoved her to the ground. She landed in a heap amidst mud and towering ferns, swallowing a shriek as a crystal spike of pain cut through her.

"Let go of me, Ryder! Stay down."

Even if Sara had wanted to disobey, she didn't think that she was capable. She satisfied herself with clinging two-handed to the dirt as the angara stalked ahead. The foliage rose higher than Sara's head, and it clung to Aali's hips as she moved. Sara scrabbled at the earth and stretched out her neck, struggling to peer over the carpet of ferns.

But Aali turned around just long enough to hiss a warning.

"There's someone coming."

Sara dropped back down.

She was just in time. A squad of gunmen stepped into view barely a moment after she ducked out of sight. She couldn't see much through the obscuring mass of green and brown, but the newcomers' silhouettes were unmistakable. They were angara.

"Stop!" One of them raised his gun - and hesitated, his barrel dropping low when he got a good look at Aali. "Paavoa, sister."

Aali hesitated. "Hello."

The angara lowered his weapon still further. He gestured at his companions. "We mean you no harm," he said gently - and that was when it hit her. There were a half dozen of them, all outfitted in combat suits tellingly bare of the Resistance emblem.

Roekaar. Sara hunkered a little lower in the grass.

"We're here to help you," their leader went on. He seemed unsettled, somehow; shocked, as if he couldn't quite believe he was speaking to an angara that had never heard of Aya. "What are you doing out here alone?"

Aali was trembling, but she held her head high. "This is my home. I can go wherever I want."

Of course - she could understand _them_. If Sara made it out of here alive, the first thing she was going to do was learn to speak Shelesh.

"We're going to make sure it stays that way - but you should find shelter until the trouble is over." Glancing upward, the Roekaar indicated the intermingled fleets.

Abruptly, Aali's demeanour changed. Maybe her adrenaline-response had gotten the best of her until now, but she seemed to have finally realized who it was she was speaking to.

"You're from another world," Aali breathed.

The Roekaar smiled gently. He inclined his head. "My name is Taanor. I was born on Havarl."

"Havarl," Aali echoed. She made it sound like an incantation; a prayer, maybe, or a plea to a nameless god. "You came here on ships?"

Taanor just blinked at her as if the answer should be obvious. "What is your name?"

"Aali." Whatever fear the little angara had seemed to have utterly left her. Sara couldn't see her face, but she could picture the wonder in her too-green eyes.

"Will you help us, Aali?"

That, at least, seemed to give her pause. "With what?"

"Two of my men have been killed by the Remnant here."

"Remnant?"

The Roekaar frowned, glancing at his comrades for help.

"The robots," one of them supplied. "They attack us on sight, but we have seen that they do not harm your people. Why?"

"Really?" Aali's voice pitched upwards at the end, like a child catching her first glimpse of the snow. "That is fascinating. I suppose it makes sense, though. The machines protect the pillars. Perhaps there is something about your biology that tells them you are not from this world."

Taanor was growing restless; Sara could see him subtly flexing his calves. Even so, she was beginning to suspect that this would be a long conversation. When the Roekaar finally did take their leave, she couldn't guarantee they wouldn't walk right over her - even if they departed peacefully. Swallowing down rising nausea, Sara eyed the tall grass around her. It was slender, flexible, and totally inconducive to an unnoticed escape. If she tried to wriggle away, the strands would wobble like palm trees in an earthquake.

"These pillars," Taanor was saying to Aali. "Why are they so special?"

"Who can say?" Aali shrugged, but she answered with the air of a professor expounding on a favourite recurring question. "They manufacture the particulate matter that the machines use in their repair and construction procedures. Eran believes that the dust helps to regulate climate processes, but there has not been an eruption in more than fifty years now. We're far past the usual cycle time, which I suppose is good news for us, but -"

"Cycle?" Taanor was beginning to sound impatient.

"That is the commonly accepted term, yes. There is a school of thought that links the periodic plasma eruptions with some sort of scheduled process in the pillars, but -"

"Slow down. You're saying that the Remnant pillars _erupt_?"

Taanor wasn't the only Roekaar looking nervous. They had to know that the dust was eezo - and Sara would admit to feeling more than a little uncomfortable with that disclosure herself.

"Not the pillars themselves, of course. The volcano." Aali's tone turned wry. "I suppose the invaders were not aware of that."

Sara could feel the ball of anxiety in her chest starting to inflate again. Eezo plasma would undoubtedly be superheated - and the volcano wasn't quite distant enough for comfort. Holding her breath, she wriggled a half-inch forward. The grass quivered - and the Roekaar nearest to her frowned. Sara froze.

"Taanor -"

But Taanor hushed him. Turning his back on Aali, he conferred with his companions in a voice barely above a whisper. Sara would have taken her chances then, but that angara was still watching too carefully. Aali threw a nervous glance over her shoulder. Perhaps she wondered if she'd said too much.

Finally, Taanor turned back to her. "We need to press on," he said to Aali. "If we leave you here, will you be -"

He trailed off, his gaze falling on a space between the trees to Sara's left. Aali fidgeted, clearly confused, but Sara tensed. They were surrounded by the not-quite-silence of a living forest; the muffled whispers of stirring foliage and patter of yesterday's rain making its slow and sliding way down -

And the squelch of muddy footsteps. Sara caught a flash of Initiative blue through the trees at the Roekaar's backs.

"Hands up!"

The Roekaar scattered. Gunfire sounded. One of the Roekaar barreled Aali over as he passed, narrowly knocking her out of harm's way. Her savior was clipped in the shoulder by an Initiative round, but he managed to stagger off in pursuit of his fellows. Sara seized her opportunity to scramble forward, desperate fingers digging grooves in the muddy ground. She reached Aali's side just in time to stop her from clambering back to her feet.

"Stay down!" It didn't matter that Aali didn't understand. She got the idea.

Initiative personnel were emerging from the trees; some human, some turian, and even a single asari. Relief flooded Sara's system at the sight of their blue and white uniforms - but there was something niggling at her. It kept her silent as her old colleagues hurried past; kept her hand planted firmly on Aali's shoulder, pressing the angara down into the dirt. By the time she realized what it was, the Initiative team was long gone.

She was afraid of them.

What was wrong with her?

"Ryder?" Aali's look was far too knowing. Her voice was far too gentle.

"I'm fine." The words were becoming just as meaningless to her at they were to Aali. "Let's go."

Together, they staggered to their feet. Sara's foot was well and truly nerveless now, but her calf was still giving her problems. She was covered in mud from her toes to her armpits, which was doing a good job of disguising the severity of her injury. Sara still tried not to look at it.

The world lost its shape as Aali half-carried, half-dragged her forwards. Straight trunks became jagged ones. Slender branches stretched, arching ones bowed, and the light around them bent into strange and twisted shapes. The rain-heavy air turned thicker than a medi-gel poultice. Sara could hear fighting in the distance; both metallic screams and ordinary ones, all underscored by the shriek of ballistic weapons fire. The ground shook every time another shuttle passed overhead, exhaust gases sending shockwaves through the trees. It was probably only a few minutes before Aali hissed a question in her ear - but to Sara, it felt like hours.

"Did you hear that?"

Sara shook her head. Even Aali's voice seemed warped and stretched; like she was talking underwater with a mouth full of cotton wool.

"What-"

She broke off as more angara strode out of the trees. This time, Sara was too tired to fear. It was inevitable, anyway. She'd never stood a chance. Were her captors Roekaar? Resistance? Locals, even; dressed up in pilfered combat suits and armed with stolen weapons? Sara looked for an insignia, but her bleary eyes couldn't find sense in the lines on their suits.

The lines of their weapons were clear enough, at least. They were trained on Sara's chest.

"Wait. Sara?"

One of the angara stepped forward. His voice was deep and gentle - and _familiar._

Jaal smiled at her, and Sara could have cried.

"Would you like some help?"

\---

Reyes didn't make a habit of doing stupid things. Here he was, though, scampering _towards_ the danger. He was smarter than this. He was more cautious than this. He reminded himself that he was being a fool; that fools _died_ for their troubles, more often than not -

But it didn't make a difference.

He was getting better at traversing the forest, at least, even if he was much more comfortable amidst metal and concrete than muddy earth. He stirred less leaf litter with every minute that passed and every mile he covered. He was getting to the point where he could almost move silently.

But there was a hollow feeling in his gut.

He'd already tried to contact Cora half a dozen times. The last time Reyes had seen them, Scott and Cora had been pursuing Charon. Jaal and Liam had been with them. If Cora was broadcasting a distress signal now, there were two possible explanations.

They were probably dead. That was the simplest explanation - and the most likely, too. They'd been loose in the forest since the night before, and Reyes was coldly certain that Charon required much less time than that to eliminate them. It was something of a shock to realize how deeply he'd mourn them. Scott, in particular, Reyes would miss more than he wanted to admit - but dead was dead. There was no taking it back. No fixing it.

So why was he doing this?

Maybe it was the look he saw in Sara's eyes when he pinned her to the forest floor. They'd been white-edged and terrified.

Because of _him_.

If he lived long enough to look back on this, Reyes knew he'd be disgusted with himself. No matter how dashing and heroic this little rescue of his looked on the outside, _he_ knew he was running scared; of Sara's wet-rimmed eyes, and the _crack_ in her desperate voice; of the way she clutched at him as her useless ankle folded beneath her -

Even the thought of it conjured fluttery panic in the pit of Reyes' stomach.

He needed to do this for her. She wouldn't know what he was making up for - and if Reyes had anything to say about it, she never would - but there was a building pressure behind his sternum that he couldn't quite identify. It wasn't the relentless dread he'd been dealing with since she vanished into the darkness between the stars, and it wasn't healthy anxiety. It niggled at the apex of his ribcage. It plucked at the tethers of his lungs.

It felt something like fate.

There was always the second possibility, of course. Cora and her team could still be alive. Either way, Charon was definitely involved.

Reyes double-checked the coordinates on the distress transmission. Without satellites for reference, he had to assume Cora was using the Tempest as her coordinate origin. If he was eyeballing it accurately, the signal was coming from a spot not far from the volcano - and he couldn't be more than a kilometre out. He would have killed for a decent satmap, but he hadn't forgotten SAM's difficulty with the atmospheric eezo. No one except the locals had any maps. The thought was reassuring, because Reyes could hear gunfire behind him. It was too far away to present any danger at the moment, but the tide could turn quickly in a dogfight like this.

Initiative. Resistance. Remnant. Roekaar. If the eezo interference cleared up enough for him to call in the Collective, they could make this one hell of a party. He wouldn't do it, though. The Initiative and the Resistance had come close to tearing each other apart over eezo once already - and together, they had the Collective badly outnumbered. This time, Reyes knew better than to waste his time running interference.

And it _had_ to be about the eezo. The Initiative had never heard of Charon, and they certainly weren't here for Sara. The same could be said for the Resistance. He was less certain of the Roekaar's motives -

But he didn't much care, either.

He was mulling over potential responses to the fallout when he came upon a rocky hollow. It looked almost like a naturally formed amphitheater. The mud beneath Reyes' feet gave way to silty sand and soil, rich browns melting into beige at the bottom of a broad depression. Across the sand, angular granite outcroppings rose up in naturally-formed tiers. Their irregular black-pink-grey patterns made it hard to judge the height of the cliffs, but Reyes would have put it at a good fifty metres. The rocks seemed sturdy enough to climb, but he wouldn't relish the task; the sizeable boulders that dotted the sandy soil suggested the walls were a lot less stable than they appeared.

Hunkering down behind a broad tree trunk, Reyes eyed the nearest chunk of granite. He wasn't thrilled by the prospect of emerging into the open. He hadn't forgotten SAM's warning about the atmospheric eezo's effect on kinetic barriers - and if anyone should be wary of snipers, it was Reyes Vidal.

He could have gone around, but that tightness in his chest had intensified. Something didn't feel right. He tried Cora's frequency again - and up amongst the rocks, an omni-tool pinged.

Reyes froze. Hell. Maybe it _was_ fate.

Sudden chills sheeting over him like ice water, he peered up at the cliffs. Even amidst the sparks of silicate-pink and -black, he saw it; a brief glint, like torchlight catching steel.

Or the sun hitting a recon lens.

_Shit._

For a moment, he doubted. It could just be coincidence; a call placed to another omni-tool at _precisely_ the moment he tried to contact Cora -

Then came a voice from amongst the rocks. The sound rooted Reyes to the spot.

It was Scott. "For the love of god - just answer the comm!"

There was a pause. For several brief, taut-stretched seconds, all Reyes could hear was his own rapid-fire breathing. His mind was racing; his thoughts turning somersaults inside his skull. If Scott and Cora were alive - what were they doing with a sniper?

Another hiss reached his ears. It sounded a lot like Liam Kosta. "Can't stand the thought of speaking to him, huh?"

"I know my strengths." That was Cora, snarling like a wounded adhi. "And I'm _not_ an actress."

"This is disgusting," Scott snapped. A head of tousled brown hair appeared from behind one of the boulders in the lowest tier of rocks. "And I won't be any part of it."

And just like that, Reyes' thoughts hit a wall. They stopped dead in their tracks - and the rest of him did, too. For a moment, his lungs refused to work.

Because he knew exactly what this was about.

_Shit._

It wasn't too late. When Reyes glanced over his shoulder, he found only empty forest. He could still slink away; get his hands on one of the Initiative shuttles, maybe, and make his exit before anyone realized he wasn’t going to show -

But no. Reyes was fooling himself. It was _far_ too late to run.

He glanced up at the cliffs again. He was cornered - not physically, of course, although the granite-enclosed sniper's nest was a nice touch. This particular piece of his past had been chasing him for far too long, and he'd be kidding himself if he said he hadn't seen it coming. From the moment Charon showed his face, it was only a matter of time.

There was no way out of this for him. Not unscathed.

Scott, Cora, Liam; those people lying in wait for him were people that Sara _loved._ They'd never hide their discovery from her - and he'd never keep her away from them. It wasn't a matter of _couldn't_ versus _wouldn't_ , because the argument was purely academic. Either way, it was impossible.

There was no winning. Not now.

But Reyes could still give as good as he got.

It _had_ to be Charon up there with the rifle. If the layered granite wasn't distorting the Pathfinder teams' voices too significantly, that sniper's lens was much too high to be handled by one of them. Reyes hadn't so much as set eyes on Charon since he left Peebee's apartment on the Nexus, but that didn't change a god damn thing. He could feel his old accomplice's hand in this like a smear of rancid oil on the air.

There was only one way to draw him out, so Reyes shouted as loud as he could.

"Am I interrupting something, Pathfinder?"

\---

Quick as a startled rabbit, Scott disappeared behind the rocks. Reyes' words echoed back at him from the edges of the hollowed space, but the whip-crack silence almost drowned them out. The airless quiet shivered with a kind of strangled anticipation. Noiseless tremors seemed to rumble through the rocks. The ridge-top recon lens flashed again, and Reyes hunkered closer against his sheltering tree trunk. It wouldn't do to get shot in the head before he had a chance to get at Charon.

Just when it seemed like the silence might suffocate them all, Cora finally broke it. She shattered it, really, and cast it down amongst the scattered granite boulders.

"I think you already know." Her voice echoed oddly in the hollows. It sawed against the uneven outcrops like cello strings on a ragged edge. "The Initiative is here, Vidal. The smart move is surrender."

"Hah." Reyes tried to make it sound like a laugh, but it came out more like a hacking cough. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, I was born much earlier than yesterday. If you want me, you're going to have to come down here and get me."

Cora growled something that Reyes couldn't decipher, because Scott's cracking shout drowned her out. "Did you find Sara?"

Reyes' lung capacity was dropping lower every minute. Gathering the will to respond was much harder than he'd expected. "Yes."

"Is she okay?"

"She's on her way back to the Tempest. She needs medical attention."

 _Don't call her_ , Reyes wanted to add - but he couldn't have stopped them if they tried.

"Then surrender," Cora repeated. Her voice was much harder, now; infused with the very granite that surrounded them. "If you ever really cared about her."

The scant air in Reyes' lungs turned molten. It was rocky and incendiary - and _painful_ , like those simple words were all it took to stoke the empty spaces inside him to eruption. "Don't," he snarled.

Cora hesitated. "I won't give you another chance."

"I already told you, Pathfinder. If you want me, you'll have to come and get me. Better yet, send Charon down."

Reyes was watching for another lens flash - but this time, none came. Either Charon had expected to be discovered, or he had already abandoned his sniper's nest. Sick uncertainty churned in Reyes' gut.

"He's not here." Cora peeked out from behind her elevated cover. Reyes couldn't see much of her expression from this distance, but she didn't have the look of a liar.

Still, Reyes almost scoffed. "You let him go, then? What did that take, I wonder?"

"We know everything, Reyes." Kosta's voice was even harder than the granite, but when he moved out from behind the rocks, his expression was carefully blank. Reyes kept forgetting the man was crisis response. "Cable got us on an audio-link. We know he's working for Tann. We know he's investigating you."

This time, Reyes' bark of laughter was entirely genuine. A remote audio-link was utterly typical of Charon, just like the easy lie that went _I'm working for Director Tann_. If Charon had given the Pathfinder team the slip during the chase through the forest last night - and it certainly seemed that he had - nothing short of an orbital bombardment could have driven him from hiding again. Perhaps none of them were even aware that Charon was present to oversee their little confrontation. Maybe none of them had spotted the sniper on the lip of the amphitheater.

And that _mattered_. Reyes hadn't expected to care quite so much about what Sara's friends thought of him.

But he did.

"You know he's up there, right?"

Cora didn't turn around. She probably thought Reyes was pulling some trick. "What are you talking about?"

Liam didn't turn to look either, but Scott abandoned his cover to peer up towards the ridgeline. "Who? Charon?"

Reyes still couldn't see any further signs of movement. His pounding heart had slowed a little, and his bursting veins had calmed. Dread was the enemy, now. It crept slowly down his chilling limbs, turning hot blood to sluggish crystal.

He needed to know where Charon was.

"He's up there," Reyes said - as loudly as he could. "With a rifle. Execution without a trial isn't very Pathfinderly, is it?"

Fury raced across Cora's features. In a flash of biotic blue, she abandoned her elevated cover, and hit the ground in a shower of disturbed earth. Liam and Scott were right behind her, landing in twin flurries of silt - though Scott's expression was a picture of grey-faced indecision. Cora and Liam both had weapons at the ready, but Scott's gun seemed almost forgotten.

"I don't want to hurt you," Cora called. Clearly, she didn't believe a word Reyes had said. "But I will if I have to."

"Please don't get your hopes up," Reyes called back.

Even without Cora's cooperation, he still had a chance. The fledgling Pathfinder might drag him back to the Nexus in cuffs, but she wouldn't shoot him in cold blood. Charon, though…

He'd settle for nothing less.

Reyes' eyes stayed glued to the clifftop. He needed a clean shot.

Scott grabbed Cora by the arm. His face had turned deathly pale. "Just take a breath," he urged her. "We haven't even -"

But Cora shook him off. "Stand down, Ryder."

"How did he talk you into this?" Reyes shouted from behind his cover. "Besides the obvious, of course."

" _Besides the obvious_ ," Cora snarled. She stalked closer to Reyes' hiding spot, and Reyes was powerless to stop it. "There _is_ only the obvious!"

He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. He couldn't shoot her.

If he'd ever wanted proof that he was a different man than when he'd left the Milky Way, there it was.

"Go ahead, Cora." She was right up in his face, now. Her gun was mere inches from his chest - and her armoured frame was blocking his view of the ridgeline. "Ask."

"Did you do it?"

She was holding her breath. Scott was, too. Liam's chest was still rising and falling, but his restless limbs remained still. Reyes' own lungs were empty. He couldn't remember when he'd taken his last breath.

He'd been backed into a corner. He'd known it even before he showed himself - but escape didn't matter. Not now.

There was only one thing Reyes could say, and only one thing Cora would believe. Denials would get him nowhere. A confession, though… That might just earn him enough trust to stay Cora's hand.

And enough time to make Charon pay.

Cora was impatient. "Did you do it?"

Her grip was carving new grooves in her weapon. Her next words reverberated like gunshots on ringing steel.

"Did you kill Jien Garson?"

Finally, Reyes took a breath.

"Yes."


	18. Eighteen

"I am feeling rather worried about your injury," Jaal rumbled. He was peering down at Sara's mangled ankle, one huge purple hand heavy on her shoulder. It kept her pinned to the rock he'd propped her up against. "Human legs are not supposed to bend that way, correct?"

"Would you believe me if I said they were?" Sara was feeling decidedly adrenaline-drunk - or maybe she was just faint with relief. When she moved to swat Jaal away, it was an effort to steady her shaking hands.

"No." Jaal settled back onto his haunches, giving her a modicum of space. "Is it treatable?"

Sara gave him a bleary grin. "I sure as hell hope so. I'll be fine, Jaal, but…" She gestured at the scene around them. A dozen Resistance soldiers were busy establishing a perimeter in the midst of the tangled undergrowth. Aali was watching them with wide eyes, her mouth hanging slightly open. "How did you wind up here?"

"I should ask you the same question." Jaal shook his head, his expression uncharacteristically rueful. "It is a long story, but I will try to make it quick. The crew of the Tempest, along with Reyes and your brother, came to this planet to find you. Before we landed, SAM observed extraordinarily large element zero reserves in the atmosphere. If the Initiative were to claim it…"

He trailed off - and even through her stuffy-eared and bleary-eyed haze, Sara understood immediately. She could still hear ships doing battle above them.

"You contacted the Resistance. From orbit?"

Jaal huffed a sigh. "I did. I suspect that the Initiative followed my people here. Then again, they may have simply followed the Roekaar."

"Who also followed the Resistance."

"Do you wish to apportion blame, Ryder?" His smile made it clear that he was teasing, but Sara knew his gentle tone hid something deeper. "I will not apologize for supporting my people. The Initiative has made it clear that it will do nothing of the sort."

Sara's sweaty skin felt strangely cold. "I understand. _Hell_ \- maybe better than anyone. But why aren't you with the Tempest crew?"

"I was, until last night. We became separated in the jungle." Jaal's gaze swiveled back to Sara's injury, his eyes like searchlights on a floating wreck. "What happened to you?"

"I can make my long story short, too." Somewhere in the quietest corners of Sara's mind, she was aware that the airy feeling in her limbs should concern her. Maybe she'd lost more blood than she thought. "My ship blew up. I fell down a hole. I'm really good at falling, Jaal."

"I'm aware." Jaal was frowning at her, now. Presumably, his thoughts were following similar paths to hers. "And who is your friend?"

Aali visibly flinched - but her answering smile was almost cheek-splitting. "My name is Aali! Can you _understand_ Ryder?"

Jaal's frown deepened. "I can," he said slowly. "Ryder - does she not have a translator?"

"No. She's a local."

"A local? You mean to say that this planet is -"

He was cut off by the shriek of weaponsfire - and an ear-rending, earth-shaking _bang_. A devastated shuttle crashed through the treetops; a spinning wreck of fire and twisted metal that made landfall barely twenty metres to Sara's left. It carved a smoking swathe through the canopy, knocking trees aside like bowling pins as momentum pushed it deeper into the jungle. By the time it finally came to a stop, it had gouged a stirred-earth scar along the forest floor. Smoke and steam billowed up around the edges of the wound, and fitful flames began to lick at the glimmering foliage nearby.

Aali squeaked. Jaal sighed, gesturing for a handful of Resistance soldiers to check for survivors. Sara just stared.

It was an Initiative ship. If she peered up through the hole it had punched through the canopy, wheeling shuttles were visible above them. She saw the flash of weaponsfire exchanged and heard the screech of pummeled metals making impact in the sky. Around them, the Resistance soldiers exchanged determined looks.

"We should go," Sara muttered. "Is it like this everywhere, Jaal?"

He nodded. "The Resistance are not fighting the Initiative," he assured her. "Yet. But the Roekaar _are_ \- and the Remnant are attacking anyone who dares to come close."

"The machines are just trying to protect us," Aali protested.

But Jaal wasn't listening. He was eyeing Sara's ankle again. "We will help you get back to the Tempest. If you were an angara, I would bind your injured leg to a support to help it bear weight. Is this something that humans do?"

Sara nodded. "Just… please don't bend my ankle like an angara's."

"What is an _ankle_?"

"It should be more or less straight, okay?"

Thankfully, one of Jaal's Resistance comrades proved more familiar with human anatomy. Sara didn't catch his name, but he and Jaal managed to fashion a passable splint from a severed tree limb. Strapping it to her ankle hurt like hell, of course, particularly when Aali innocently suggested it should be _tighter_ \- but by the end of it, she was able to stand unsupported. Walking was still an issue, but Sara would take what she could get.

Later, she would thank her lucky stars for that improvised splint.

\---

The granite amphitheater was utterly still. It was as if Reyes' confession was really an incantation; a quiet, one-word spell that turned the world around him to lifelike stone.

Until Scott managed to speak. "No _fucking_ way."

"You're under arrest," Cora muttered. Her voice was scratchy; weak, like a dying thing clawing at its cage. "Come quietly, and I'll see that your trial is fair."

"We…" For a moment, Liam's words failed him. "We need to read him his Right to Silence. Do we have one of those in Heleus?"

"I won't give you any trouble," Reyes said quietly. And _shit_ \- even saying it felt wrong; like he was plucking out his eyelashes or ripping off his fingernails. But he didn't have a choice. "If you move two steps to your right."

Cora's expression hardly changed. "What?"

Then another voice rang out behind her - and panic flitted across her features.

"He can't be trusted, Pathfinder. It's much safer to take him out of the equation now."

As one, the Pathfinder team spun. A half-second later, Cora corrected herself; she took several hasty steps backward so she could keep her gun on Reyes and still face the rocky hollow. Her dancing meant that Reyes was the last to lay eyes on the newcomer.

But Reyes had never needed to see his face.

It was Charon. Like Cora, his weapon was trained on Reyes' hiding spot, but he had nothing even approaching a clear line of sight. His blonde hair was sweaty and disheveled; streaked through with dirt and what Reyes sincerely hoped was blood. His once-pristine clothing - the same as he'd been wearing on the Nexus - was plastered with drying mud. He spoke calmly, of course, because Charon always did.

But Reyes knew desperation when he saw it. Only an orbital bombardment could draw Charon out of hiding.

Or his last chance to take Reyes down.

For a moment, it was all Reyes could do to keep his itching fingers still. He didn't dare reach for his weapon - not yet, with the barrel of Cora's shotgun so close to his chest - but he couldn't quite believe his taunting had worked. The ghost he'd been chasing was here. In reach.

Vulnerable.

"He's a criminal," Charon continued. His fingers worked back and forth on the column of his rifle; tensing, squeezing, flexing. "If you arrest him, he'll be free before you've even set a course for the Nexus. Even if you _do_ make it all the way there, his people will have him out in days. No Initiative prison can hold the Charlatan."

Scott failed to disguise a strangled gasp. Even Liam's shoulders tensed. The words sent ice-barbed chills down Reyes' spine - but if his lungs hadn't been stretched taut around the acrid bubble in his chest, he might have laughed.

 _The Charlatan_. To think he'd once feared the discovery of his identity.

There were far worse things than that.

Cora was wavering. She glanced at Reyes out of the corner of her eye. "The Tempest is secure," she said slowly. "We'll take precautions."

Charon's expression hardened. He wasn't even _trying_ to be charming - and to anyone who knew him, that oversight spoke volumes. "He's been lying to you since the moment you met him!"

It took an almost painful effort, but Reyes dragged his gaze away from Charon to pin it on Cora instead. He spoke quietly; intently; _forcefully_ , like what he had to say might tip the balance in a supernova.

Maybe it would.

"He's a liar too, Cora. He's not working for Tann. He's an assassin, and he knows about Garson because he was in on it. I don't know exactly why he wants me dead, but I know him - and I know that he's using you to get rid of me."

Cora didn't respond. Her eyes stayed fixed on Charon.

"Don't listen to him!" Charon's voice wasn't calm anymore. "Trust what you know, Pathfinder. You know he's been lying to you. He's been lying to Sara!" A hint of triumph crept into his tone, then - and a visible tremor ran through the Pathfinder's crew. "You can't trust a word he says."

"Charon's done everything he can to sabotage the Initiative's alliances," Reyes murmured. "With the Collective _and_ the angara." Cora still wasn't responding, so he started to inch his weapon free of its holster. "I'm not denying it. I _did_ kill Garson - but I wouldn't lie about Sara."

This was his only chance.

"Charon engineered her trial. He tried to kill her."

Liam swore under his breath. "I believe that," he muttered. "We can't make this decision here, Pathfinder. We're gonna need cool heads for this one."

"Let's just take them both back to the Nexus." Scott spoke very softly. "Please, Cora."

Cora hesitated. The moisture in the air could have crystallized in the time it took her to respond. Reyes' gun was almost free, now. If he ducked out of cover, he'd have one clear shot at Charon. It would probably goad Cora into shooting at Reyes, too, and he didn't relish taking a shotgun blast to the back of the head - but it would all be worth it if he could watch Charon go down.

Finally, Cora spoke. "Okay. Charon, or Cable, or whatever your name is -"

" _No_."

Charon surged forwards - almost close enough to knock aside the barrel of Cora's gun. It was visceral, that denial; _primal_ , almost, as though Charon's need to win this ran deeper than his marrow. But the Pathfinder team's weapons formed a ring he couldn't penetrate. Reyes' gun was in hand, now, but no one seemed to have noticed. He pressed himself flush against his tree trunk shelter. So long as he stayed in cover, Charon couldn't touch him.

Charon knew it, too.

"Come out, Anubis."

The guns were all trained on Charon, now. "Put your weapon down," Cora instructed him. "Back off, _now_ \- and we'll let this go."

Perhaps Cora had remembered that none of them had functional kinetic barriers. Equipped with her usual defences, Reyes couldn't imagine her giving someone an out like that.

For a moment, Charon didn't move. He didn't speak, either. Reyes peeked out just far enough to watch him squirm - and he wasn't disappointed. A spider always knows when it is trapped.

And in that instant, they all realized what Charon was going to do.

Reyes saw it in his eyes, but he was the only one that knew Charon well enough for that. Cora must have heard it from SAM; her eyes went wide a split-second sooner than they should have, and Reyes saw the horror race across her face like lightning. For Liam, it was an ex-cop's instincts, and for Scott, perhaps something similar.

But more personal, too - because it was Scott that Charon fired on.

It happened very quickly.

The gunshot was _loud_. The granite walls echoed it back as if the thunderclap sounded a dozen times. Biotic energy flared on the edge of Reyes' vision, searing electric blue right through to the back of his skull - but Reyes had to move. He hurled himself into the light, gun clutched tight between sweaty fingers.

He should have gone for Charon. He was kicking himself for it already -

But he lunged for Scott instead.

He could barely see a thing. He could barely hear anything, either. It felt like the gunshot had punched holes through his eardrums. An armoured hand grasped his shoulder. Strong. Steady. Too large to be anyone but Liam.

It shoved him down into the dirt. "Stay down," Kosta hissed.

Reyes' sparking vision was starting to clear. Chin grazing the dirt, he found himself face to face with Scott. The younger Ryder was blinking rapidly. He was frowning, too; like he didn't understand quite what had happened, or why he was lying flat on his back.

"Scott? Where did it hit?" There wasn't any point in asking _if_ the bullet found its mark. Charon was probably incapable of missing a shot at that range.

Above him, Liam was shouting at someone. Charon? To Reyes, it sounded like white noise.

"Scott?"

But Scott's gaze had moved away. He struggled to sit up, wordlessly attempting to shift something that was pinning his legs.

No - not something. Someone.

Cora.

She was sprawled on the ground, crimson dripping from the articulating joint below her armpit. Quite suddenly, the burst of biotic energy made sense. Reyes had seen her do this before; ignite the blue-white energy like fire between her hands, and use it to put herself in danger for someone else. Biotics made self-sacrifice too easy.

But there was no time. Any moment now, Reyes was going to feel Charon's gun pressed to his skull. He could almost feel the bite of the cold metal already -

But when he looked up, the spider was gone.

 _Shit_. He should have gone for Charon. He'd thrown away his chance - maybe his _only_ chance. Still, he scrambled to his feet. He raised his weapon.

And froze. He couldn't give chase, because Charon would expect that. He'd be lying in wait behind a tree somewhere, trigger finger ready for the moment Reyes hurtled past.

Behind him, Scott sounded like he'd swallowed seawater. "Cora - can you hear me? Just nod, or squeeze my fingers, or -"

Then cries erupted in the forest around them, and Reyes didn't hear another word he said. Angara poured out of the darkness between the trees; weapons raised, helmets lowered, and roaring war cries like thunder in Kadara's crags. There couldn't have been more than a dozen of them, but their numbers didn't matter much at this point. Their words were indistinct; garbled, like overlapping frequencies - but there was one word they all repeated.

_Vesagara._

"Roekaar," Liam warned. As if Reyes didn't already know.

They were quickly surrounded. Reyes' options were turning circles in his head, but there were precious few of them. They were fraying at the edges and rending through the middle, like gauze that caught on nails with every new problem he spotted. In the end, it all came down to two.

He could stay, or he could run.

Two more angara emerged from the trees. They were dragging something between them; something that struggled, growling, its heels kicking up silt as they beat uselessly against the earth.

It was Charon, his face a mask of pale panic.

And Reyes knew what he had to do.

\---

Sara had never felt quite as useless as she did right now. It didn't help that she'd been the one to suggest - and, in fact, explain the concept of - a piggyback ride. Clinging to Jaal's shoulders and biting back a curse every time a change in his gait sent a jolt of pain shuddering up her tibia, Sara might as well have been an oddly-shaped and inconvenient backpack. If they made it back to the Tempest without stumbling into a squad of Remnant or Roekaar, choking on concentrated eezo dust, or being crushed by wreckage fallen from low-atmo, Sara was going to owe everyone a drink.

A lot of drinks, if she was honest about it.

She was impressed by the Resistance squad's coordination. They moved in almost total silence, save for Aali's panting and Sara's muffled swearing, and the woman that had taken point gestured for a halt with a raised fist whenever she detected cause for concern. It was her sharp eyes that warned them of an approaching trio of Roekaar, and her silent communication that gave them time to duck out of sight before they passed. Sara could feel her heartbeat throbbing behind her eyeballs during the long, strangled moments spent hiding in the underbrush. She fancied she could feel Jaal's beating right through his spine. When their leader signaled that it was safe to emerge, Sara leaned forward to mutter in his ear.

"How long, do you think?"

"At this pace?" Jaal paused, undoubtedly worrying through the approximations. "Perhaps a little more than an hour, unless we run into more scouts."

A few feet behind them, Aali made a frustrated noise. She hadn't even needed to hear Sara's question. Context, it seemed, was everything. "Can't we go faster?"

Sara pulled her lower lip back and forth with her teeth as she mulled that information over. She hadn't heard from Reyes since he took off to find Cora and the others. She'd worried for him from the moment she lost sight of him, but her ribs squeezed a little tighter every minute he went without contact. Her omni-tool remained resolutely silent as Jaal clambered to his feet, and Sara stared at it morosely as the squad resumed their silent progress through the trees. If she sent a message to him, would it give him away to some passing patrol? If he tried to contact her, might it do the same?

When the damned machine finally buzzed, she almost fell off Jaal's back.

Narrowly saving herself from a mud bath, Sara spared a glance for their silent leader. The angara was looking back at her, glaring in a manner that somehow conveyed both censure and grudging acceptance - but Sara didn't care. The incoming call wasn't from Reyes.

For a moment, she could only boggle at the interface. "SAM?"

"Sara." SAM's vocals seemed faster than usual, as if he was running those processes at double speed. "You will wish to ask questions, but I must ask you to hold them for a later time. The Pathfinder is in urgent need of assistance."

It felt like plunging into icy water. Sara nearly swallowed her tongue, but she managed to swallow her questions, too. _What happened? Is she okay? Where's Reyes?_

"The Pathfinder has been shot. I have been under orders to refrain from contacting you, but circumstances require I overlook those orders to address more fundamental priorities."

This time, Sara couldn't hold back. "Cora ordered you not to contact me?"

SAM ignored her. "The Pathfinder suffered a thoracic gunshot wound in a bid to protect your brother from harm. Shortly afterwards, their position was overrun by Roekaar, to whom Mr. Vidal surrendered. The Roekaar have removed him to an unknown location, along with Scott, Mr. Kosta, and the man they refer to as Charon. I have done what I can to slow the Pathfinder's rate of blood loss, but she is currently in the process of bleeding out."

Quick-blooming panic was climbing higher in Sara's chest. It leapt upwards in staccato increments with every name SAM reeled off - like a number; a statistic; a _casualty_. Who was Charon? Why would Reyes surrender?

But Sara pushed it all aside.

 _Gunshot wound_. The words echoed in her skull like sickly, rattling thunder, and her fingers crept unbidden towards the starburst star above her hip.

"Where do I go, SAM?"

"I am forwarding a nav-point to your omni-tool. In the absence of orbital mapping, coordinates are taken with the Tempest assumed to be the origin point and the nearby shoreline taken as due south."

Her omni-tool chimed like a single pealing bell. Sara's bones rang with it, too, like shivering glass about to shatter.

"I'm on my way."

It was only then that Sara remembered she wasn't in charge anymore. The Resistance soldiers close enough to overhear her conversation were eyeing their leader uncertainly - until Jaal yanked Sara's wrist down, peering closely at her omni-tool. He turned slowly on the spot, leaving Sara to cling to him with one marrow-bled elbow hooked over his shoulder. After a moment, he stopped, facing a direction almost entirely opposite to the one in which they'd been heading.

"What do you think?" he asked softly. "This way?"

Sara nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. She gave the order, instead - and for a moment, it felt almost as if she was useful again.

"Let's go."

\---

Once he'd surrendered, Reyes wasn't aware of much.

They slugged him in the jaw. He felt _that_ , of course, because the impact rattled right up through his skull. It left him seeing stars, and by the time he came to, there were cuffs around his wrists. The minutes that followed were almost as blurry. He was dully conscious of Liam's bulky presence on his left, and of Scott's directly ahead of him. There were Roekaar all around, as well - but Reyes didn't care about any of that.

He was watching for the spider.

Dimly, Reyes realized that Cora was probably dead by now. He hadn't had time to place precisely where the bullet hit, but it was somewhere in her chest. Perhaps it spoke to some fundamental difference between himself and the rest of the cluster, but Reyes couldn't find the space inside him for much regret. Maybe she'd earned it, or maybe she hadn't. Either way, it wouldn't change things. He was already fairly certain he wasn't getting out of this alive. And if he did…

He couldn't think about it. Even in his head, he was using euphemisms. His thoughts danced circles around it; ducking, weaving, _contorting_ \- like if the words found life within his skull, they'd find breathable air elsewhere as well.

When Sara found out -

No. As far as Reyes was concerned, there were two possible outcomes here. Everything else barely warranted a mention. Charon would get away with everything -

Or he wouldn't.

They were being herded through the forest. None of their Roekaar captors saw fit to mention their destination, but Reyes suspected it couldn't be good news. His head was so foggy that he didn't hear the first shuttle crash until it hit dirt almost right in front of them - and after that, he took pains to clear his mind. He breathed deep, swallowing wet and ashy air without complaint. He opened his eyes wide, ears straining until the sounds of the overhead battle emerged. The earth was muddy, and the going was difficult. Reyes wasn't the only one the Roekaar shoved and heckled.

It still stung - his jaw, _and_ the cuffs on his wrists. That it was _Roekaar_ that had chained him only added insult to injury, but Reyes wasn't fool enough to think that any of them would have left that amphitheater alive if he hadn't surrendered. Except Charon, of course. If anyone could have weaseled his way out of that situation, it was Charon - and Reyes wasn't going to take that chance.

Reyes had finally managed to manoeuvre himself into position beside his target. Charon was watching him as well, which was the very definition of unsurprising. Like Reyes and the others, he'd been disarmed. Weaponless, cuffed and muddy, he seemed more exhausted than threatening - but when he looked at Reyes, tension crackled along his limbs. He wasn't half as fatigued as he pretended to be.

Not long after a second shuttle fell to earth behind them, Charon made a break for it.

Three Roekaar took off in pursuit. When they dragged him back a few minutes later, shoving him down into the mud on Reyes' left, his right eye was blooming red and purple. His gaze came back to Reyes, equal parts pain and humiliation, and he growled a sullen invocation through his teeth.

"You're going to die here."

They came across the battlefield shortly after.

A sprawling wound had been cut through the canopy, leaving the earth beneath to burn in a vast pillar of sunlight. Harsh, pale and unyielding, it cast the cause in sharp relief. A tangle of struggling ships had landed here, only to be promptly obliterated; mud had been scorched and hardened into blackened earth in a wide circle centered on the wreckage. Exactly what had destroyed them was not immediately clear, but hints of their once-distinctive silhouettes were still visible amongst the deformed alloy.

Initiative and Roekaar.

More details leapt out as Reyes' eyes adjusted to the flooding light. At least one of the ships had been forced into its landing; it was missing what looked like a vital percentage of its melted frame. The others must have followed it down, perhaps for lack of a suitable angle to destroy it - or perhaps they'd planned to introduce some additional ground troops to whatever shitfight Tann, Evfra and the Roekaar vestiges had started.

There were corpses, too. Angara, mostly, with a few scattered humans and turians. Whatever had happened here, it seemed the Initiative had taken fewer losses. There were Remnant amongst them, too, their glossy shells cracked and their robotic lenses shattered.

Scott leaned over to whisper to Liam. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Metal groaned and shrieked as the tangled wreckage began to shift - then burst apart entirely, sending huge chunks of shrapnel flying in all directions. Liam narrowly avoided having his head taken off by a slice of airborne hull, and Scott was bowled over by one of the Roekaar as she scrambled backwards.

A Remnant colossus was emerging from the ground.

It was huge. Twin cannons whirred into position on either side of its armoured frame as it rose to its full height, the barrels glowing crimson even at this distance. Four thick, segmented limbs carried it across the ground as it made its lumbering way towards them, its gait reminiscent of some crustacean behemoth. Reyes watched in mute horror as it scuttled closer. For a moment, it was the only thing that moved.

Until the Roekaar leader shouted. "Target the cannons!"

To their credit - or their detriment, depending on how you looked at it - the Roekaar didn't hesitate. They charged the destroyer as if they found nothing to fear in a twenty-tonne killing machine. Though his cuffs undoubtedly made it difficult, Liam helped Scott back to his feet. Bullets were already starting to fly. Reyes watched one of the Roekaar go down, her cries almost drowned out by a barrage of Remnant weapons fire.

He wouldn't get a better chance than this. He took a careful step backwards, away from the spectacle -

But when he turned to his left, Charon wasn't there.

_Shit._

Lightning quick, Charon's hands came down on either side of Reyes' head. Cold metal touched Reyes' throat - and _pulled_. Reyes stumbled backwards, instinctive; gasping; _choking_ \- but he had nowhere to go. His grabbed at the chain, trying to get his fingers between it and his neck, but it was no use. His struggling only seemed to make Charon pull harder. Liam turned, his jaw going slack as he realized what was happening.

"Hey!"

Liam and Scott both leapt to his aid, but there was nothing they could do; cuffed wrists gave them no leverage to haul Charon away. The world was turning blurry at the edges, but Reyes felt the pressure on his windpipe change when Charon decided _down_ would serve better than _backward_ \- and he knew he only had one chance.

Reyes let his legs go limp.

Charon wasn't expecting it. They fell to the ground together, Reyes' spine to Charon's chest, and the impact was all the opportunity Reyes needed to jam his elbow into Charon's unprotected side. Charon wheezed, his grip momentarily tightening - then loosening, his fingers briefly useless while his body fought for air.

And Reyes managed to turn onto his side.

He still couldn't see Charon's face, but he heard his quiet hiss. " _No_ -"

The spider hauled on the chain again, but his angle was ruined. Reyes felt the metal digging into his skin as he struggled; sawing back and forth against the muscles in his neck. But he could breathe again. The air burned like drive core exhaust on its way down his throat.

Somewhere above him, Scott was swearing. Out on the battlefield, the Remnant destroyer's cannons were still firing. Liam's boot connected with Charon's skull -

Charon jerked, and Reyes finally ducked free of the makeshift garrote.

But he didn't try to stand. He didn't try to run. Instead, he knelt on Charon's chest. He ground his knee into his sternum.

Scott was chanting some sort of directionless prayer, his voice full of raw relief. His fingers found a handhold on Reyes' collar as he tried to pull him to his feet. "Let's go," he urged. "The Roekaar are distracted!"

But Reyes was beyond all that; _had been_ , from the moment he stumbled on the would-be ambush in the granite hollow. He leaned in closer to Charon. He wrapped his fingers around his throat.

And he squeezed.

He knew that Charon had already won. Even if Reyes survived this, the only way he left this planet was with a target on his back. His alliance with the Initiative, superficial as it was, would finally collapse. The leadership might have swallowed an agreement with a criminal - but never with a _murderer_. Not one who pulled the trigger himself. And when Sara found out what he'd done -

She was going to leave him. If the Oblivion had been crisis point for them, then this was the point of no return.

But Reyes could still make Charon pay.

He squeezed _tighter_ ; until his fingers ached over flexing tendons, and his own lungs burned with deprivation. Charon's hands, trapped above his head, batted weakly at Reyes' brow. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His reddened face was turning purple.

Scott was still pulling at Reyes' collar. He was using both hands, now. Whatever Liam was doing, he wasn't interfering. Maybe he was simply shocked, or maybe he saw the futility of it all. Either Charon got away with everything -

Or he didn't.

Charon's eyes were bulging. Fresh blood was leaking from the blackened one; spilling down over slackened cheeks to dip across the hollow of his chin -

Strong hands closed on Reyes' shoulders, and a Roekaar hauled him away. He struggled, of course, kicking and snarling and twisting. He only needed a moment longer - but he lost his grip on Charon's throat. He was hurled to the ground, unable to see much past the mud in his eyes - or _breathe_ much, with an angaran boot pressing on his neck - but he heard Charon drag down a ragged gasp. Dimly, he realized that the sounds of the battle had ceased.

"They were trying to kill each other," the angara above Reyes said to someone over his shoulder - as if he was trying to explain something. "It might be safer to just get rid of those two now."

"Not yet." The answer came from somewhere beyond Reyes' limited view. "We don't know which of them will be useful. Get them on their feet - but watch that one very carefully."

The boot on Reyes' neck lifted, and the Roekaar yanked him to his feet. Charon was on his feet as well, looking more than a little dazed. He was massaging his bruised throat, seemingly oblivious to the blood on his face. Reyes lunged - but the angara held him back. Charon flinched away, panicked.

But it didn't reach his eyes.

"Was it worth it?" Reyes snarled. He barely recognized the sound of his own voice. " _Was it?_ "

They were shepherded onwards in stony silence. Reyes' throat was still aching. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to find the air to both walk upright and seethe. A red haze clung to the edges of his vision. Charon had stopped trying to meet his eyes; he scuttled along, head down, as if he hoped the Roekaar might see his good behavior and feel inclined to kill Reyes instead. Eventually, the battlefield vanished behind a curtain of leafy green. The smell of charred earth and carnage faded, too, but the distant sounds of gunfire above persisted.

Reyes was so focused on his fury that he didn't realize where they were going until he almost lost his footing on a familiar muddy slope. There were footprints here, smeared where someone had knelt on the edge of a small clearing. There were signs of someone stumbling - and a hexagonal hole in the ground.

The Roekaar were taking them to the vault.

Reyes saw Scott's shoulders stiffen the moment he caught sight of the gravity well - an achievement, really, given that they'd been stumbling along in handcuffs for what felt like forever. "Is that…"

Liam nodded. He responded so quietly that Reyes barely heard. "Think I'm starting to see why they brought us along."

"Why?"

"Ever seen a Roekaar open a vault?"

The Roekaar leader was the first to descend. The others filed into the gravity well behind him, guiding their captives along with a few meaningful jabs of their assault rifles. The skirmish with the Remnant destroyer seemed to have thinned their numbers a little, but Reyes still counted eight remaining before they shoved him into the well.

They made him go before Charon. Even as the blue-green light from the conduit walls washed over him; even as the subterranean breeze stirred his hair, drying some of the mud and sweat on his skin, Reyes couldn't help but wait for those hard metal links to dig into his throat again. If he closed his eyes against the point-source lights, he could feel them there already, gouging and tearing at his skin.

Choking.

When his feet hit the ground, the impact sent vibrations right up into his teeth. One of the Roekaar yanked him aside, clearing the area for those that were still waiting to descend, then shoved Reyes to his knees beside Liam. Scott was on Liam's other side, wild eyes roving the walls like he was waiting for more Remnant to emerge. Something in Reyes' chest twisted painfully. Scott had stood between a madman and a vault once before - and although he had always claimed otherwise, Reyes suspected that he remembered everything.

When the last Roekaar emerged from the well, clutching Charon's collar as though she expected another escape attempt at any moment, the captives were urged to their feet again. They were guided deeper into the vault; out of the circular chamber at the base of the gravity well, and into the low-ceilinged thoroughfare that Reyes had explored with Sara only a few short hours ago. The gently sloping floor led them right to the dormant console he'd seen earlier - and the locked door that loomed beside it.

Silent, the Roekaar leader turned. His gaze slid from prisoner to prisoner; slowly, as though he was measuring the heartbeats before he let his eyes move on. Perhaps he intended to seem precise; analytical, even, as though he was carefully selecting his target - but to Reyes, his hesitation only made him seem uninformed.

If Liam was right - if the Roekaar had brought them down here in the hopes of unlocking the vault - then they were going to be sorely disappointed. The only person that could open it was lying dead in a granite hollow. Without SAM in his head, Scott was useless to them. Even Sara couldn't operate the Remnant consoles without SAM's help, and she'd carried him around inside her skull for years.

_Not without frying my brain._

The Roekaar's gaze finally settled on Scott. "Your name is Ryder."

Scott didn't flinch. He met the Roekaar's eyes, all quiet defiance and brittle resolve. "So what?"

The Roekaar gestured at the console. "We need to reach the centre of the vault. Open the door."

Scott snorted a shallow laugh. "Even if I wanted to, I can't. You've got the wrong human, assholes."

"No, we don't. We know how it works. When the Pathfinder dies, her AI gets transferred to her second. That's you." He turned to Liam, then, indicating Kosta's Initiative emblem with the barrel of his gun. "Or you."

"He's not as good a shot as he thinks he is," Liam replied, his eyes darting briefly to Charon. The spider didn't react, but the thoughtful twist to his mouth made Reyes nervous. "The Pathfinder's not dead. But, hey! Maybe you should take us back to her. If you're lucky, maybe she'll negotiate."

Reyes hoped that Liam knew something he didn't, but the confident words rang hollow. Liam's eyes lacked their usual spark. He didn't believe it any more than the Roekaar did.

What _had_ happened to SAM? If he hadn't been transferred to Scott or Liam, he hadn't gone to any human on the Tempest's crew - unless Gil or Suvi had a lot of hidden talents. The Initiative wouldn't have given the human Pathfinder's AI to another species, so that ruled out the rest of them.

Who did that leave? Some lackey of Tann's in Nexus operations? An up-and-coming in station security?

Then again, Cora could still be alive. Reyes had hardened his heart to her already, but that thought drove icy spikes under his fingernails. Bullets to the chest were messy. It would be kinder if she'd simply died. If that was the case, the Roekaar had only to wait.

"You could try Sara Ryder." Charon's words were quiet, but they split the silence like a whip crack. When he smiled, his bruised throat and blackened eye pulling taut, cold dread tugged at the fibres of Reyes' bones. "She's on the planet, too. Everyone knows she can open these vaults."

"You twisted _fuck_." Scott took a step toward Charon, but a Roekaar held him back with a hand on the back of his collar. "Why are you doing this? What has she ever done to you?" Scott almost choked on the words, his anger flaring like a dying star.

Even then, it paled beside Reyes'. The Roekaar between them shielded Charon from the full force of it, but the spider had to know. He had to _feel_ it, surely, like a black hole tearing pieces from a passing world. Heavy, cold, _suffocating_ ; with a locus centered squarely on the space behind Reyes' heart.

He'd thought that she was safe.

The Roekaar leader made a thoughtful sound. He gestured at Charon. "If her brother is threatened, will she come to us?"

Liam's glower could have frightened off an eiroch, but Charon's bloodstained smile only widened. "Oh, I'm sure she will. You should ask Vidal to make the call, though." He inclined his head to Reyes, smirking all the while. "She tends to listen to him."

"She won't do it," Scott protested - but the Roekaar were already nodding to each other, his frantic denials ignored. "She's not stupid. Explain to us _why_ you want the vault open, then maybe -"

He broke off, eyes popping, when the leader jammed his gun against Scott's skull.

"Contact Sara Ryder," he grated. "Now."

Reyes didn't move. That chasm inside him was widening; sinking deeper and darker with every breath he took.

"No," Scott repeated. This time, his voice was barely a whisper; shot through with sparking desperation. "She's not even the Pathfinder anymore. She can't open the vaults either."

"I don't believe you," the Roekaar replied. "But if you happen to be telling the truth, we'll find out soon enough." His eyes moved to Reyes. "Contact Sara Ryder," he repeated. "Tell her to come here, or her brother will be the next _vesagara_ we remove from this world."

This time, Scott stayed silent. He stared at Reyes instead, begging mutely - but Reyes wasn't sure what for. His eyes spilled over with conflicting emotions. Reyes couldn't read them, though; not with that vacuum plucking greedy at the fringes of his lungs. 

Scott was wrong. If Reyes called for help, Sara would come - but she wouldn't charge in without a plan. She might bring back-up. She might bring SAM. At the very least, she'd bring a gun - and right now, Reyes didn't even have that. Whatever her decision, it would be one she made herself.

Reyes trusted her to make a good one.

And she'd never forgive him if he let her brother die.

"I don't have a comm connection down here," Reyes croaked.

Scott's eyes fluttered shut. Liam's frown deepened. Charon smiled, like a god of war watching a hated rival burn.

"You'll need to take me to the surface."


	19. Nineteen

They were moving faster now.

Sara huddled in close behind Jaal, clinging to him with all the strength she had left. He was hunkering low; darting through the unfamiliar forest as confidently as if it were his old stomping ground on Havarl. Sara knew the rest of his Resistance squad was behind them somewhere - if she twisted around, she sometimes caught glimpses of the soldier escorting Aali - but their presence seemed almost irrelevant. The wind in her hair, though - that mattered. It meant they were getting closer to Cora.

 _Gunshot wound._ Sara was no doctor, but a thoracic bullet wound sounded bad. Thoracic meant _chest_. It meant lungs and ribs and staccato hearts -

But SAM said Cora was bleeding out. He didn't say _suffocating_ ; didn't say _drowning in her own blood_.

"How far, Jaal?”

"We have nearly reached the coordinates SAM provided.”

Jaal's reply was short and sharp; balanced between his panting breaths. Sara was panting too. Jaal's was definitely a sign of exertion, but Sara had a feeling hers was probably panic - not just for Cora, but for Reyes; Scott; Liam -

Gripping Jaal's waist tightly with her thighs, she managed to activate her omni-tool. "SAM - once we find her, what do we do?”

"The Pathfinder is unconscious, Sara. You will need to access the entry wound and administer medi-gel. This may allow you to relocate her to the Tempest for surgery.”

" _May_?”

"The Pathfinder's condition is deteriorating rapidly.”

Sara didn't want to think about what that might mean. "Can't we call the Tempest? Have them come in for a pickup?”

"I lack the orbital imaging necessary to locate a landing site of sufficient size to accommodate the Tempest. With that said, I have directed one of the nearby Initiative shuttles to the Pathfinder's location. It is likely that a smaller vessel will experience fewer difficulties when attempting to land.”

"Then why call _me_?”

"Conflict in the lower atmosphere makes the shuttle's arrival time difficult to estimate. There is a non-negligible possibility that you may reach the Pathfinder first. Under the current circumstances, mere minutes may make all the difference."

SAM fell silent, but Sara recognized that frequency uptick at the end of his explanation. There was more.

"And?"

"If Lieutenant Harper is to die, she would not wish to be alone.”

The bubble in Sara's chest finally burst. Choking back a sob, she buried her face in Jaal's shoulder. She'd wasted so much time being _angry_ at Cora; envying her, and blaming her for being so blameless. If Sara had never stepped aboard that doomed charter shuttle, Cora wouldn't be here. If she’d listened to Reyes, and stayed on Kadara; if she'd left the action to people who weren't helpless without an AI -

Reyes wouldn't be missing. Cora wouldn't be bleeding out.

Sara knew what it was to feel her life seeping out between her fingers.

"Jaal!”

Inertia almost pushed Sara right up over his shoulders as he skidded to a halt. It was the squad leader, Inija, who called out to him; Sara recognized her oddly piercing stare. It only took her a moment to catch up to them.

"Word from the other scouts,” Inija muttered to Jaal. "Turns out the Collective have been here all along.”

Lightning sparked down Sara's spine. She clambered higher up Jaal's back, some of the tightness in her chest briefly slipping.

Until Inija fixed her with another glare. "They have the local angara under siege. We have orders to help liberate the village.”

_"What?”_

Everyone said it at once, but Aali was the loudest. Ducking free of the protective hand on her shoulder, she hurried over to join the huddle. Her expression slipped from excitement to relief and back again. "You're going to help us?”

Sara hadn't thought she had room for any more guilt - but there it was. She'd forgotten all about Aali's plea for help.

"It can't be the Collective,” Sara snapped anyway; as glass-built and flimsy as she’d been in the aftermath of her trial.

Inija’s glower turned even harder than before. She didn't believe it - and it felt just like history repeating.

"It's _not_ the Collective,” Sara said again. Her ribs were locked in place, and her lungs strained uselessly at their confines. They didn't have _time_ for this. "Are they wearing the uniforms? Shouting _for the Charlatan_? Someone's been trying to frame him since before Vaalon -"

"It's not the Collective.” For a moment, Sara was sure she was hallucinating - but Jaal really was backing her up. He _believed_ her. "Go,” he said to the Resistance leader. "Follow your orders. Ryder and I will locate the Pathfinder.”

Inija hesitated. She spared another glance for Sara, doubtful - but considering. "What have you not told us? You say the Charlatan is the victim of -"

But Sara's omni-tool cut her off. "Sara,” SAM said through the crackling connection. "The Pathfinder's condition is continuing to deteriorate. I cannot be certain that the shuttle will reach her in time.”

"We have to go.” Sara's fingers dug deeper into Jaal's shoulders -

But he was already moving; spinning on one foot and tearing off into the trees. "Go!” he shouted over his shoulder.

And he _ran_.

Sara caught one last glimpse of the angara behind them before the forest swallowed them whole. Aali's hand was raised in farewell.

Sara hardly noticed her surroundings as the forest whipped past. Her splinted leg was a twisted spire of leaden heat, but she ignored it. She kept her grip on Jaal's shoulders, but she was flexing every muscle in her hands. She'd be quick-fingered, when the moment came. She'd be precise. She'd uncap the medi-gel with one hand, and brace Cora's shoulder with the other. She wouldn't panic; wouldn't falter; wouldn't fear.

She wouldn't think about Remav.

"Please,” she whispered into her knuckles. "Let them all be okay.”

Jaal rumbled a wordless agreement.

Their arrival almost caught Sara by surprise. One moment, the world was whipping past in a blur of shadow-smeared green; the next, it was falling away like parting curtains. Pillars of pink-grey-black jutted up from sandy soil at the base of tiered granite cliffs, stabbing skyward like rings of rocky swords. It might have been beautiful.

But Cora was sprawled out on the sand.

She was lying on her back. The fall of her hair obscured her face, and she didn't so much as flinch when Jaal stomped into the clearing. She didn't move when he skidded to a halt at her side, and she didn't respond when Sara called her name. When Sara dropped to her knees, stifling a shriek of pain, she found blood sinking deep into the sand.

But Sara had her instructions.

Find the entry wound. Use the medi-gel.

Get Cora home alive.

Jaal crouched down on Cora's other side. His fingers found the clasps behind her shoulders. With a click, her articulated chestplate came free - and once dammed blood splashed down over her ribs.

Sara's head began to spin.

"There,” Jaal murmured. One huge purple finger stabbed toward Cora’s underarm.

At first, Sara couldn't see it. Cora's undersuit was already dark with blood, and the entry wound was no more than spot of slightly deeper darkness - but, finally, she found it. Sara didn't have any medi-gel, but the Pathfinder team's hardsuits always had a pouch attached to the leg plates...

There. Sara's shaking fingers fumbled the cap, but she managed to open it.

She wasn't quick-fingered. She wasn't precise. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and panic like still-vein spasms wrapped razor wire round her heart.

But she braced Cora's shoulder. She injected the medi-gel. She brushed Cora's hair back from her face as the gel began to harden, turning desperate eyes towards the sky.

"Where's that shuttle?”

Slippery fingers closed around Sara's, and her heart almost leapt out of her chest.

"Holy _shit._ Cora, please don't move.”

Cora's eyes were wide and glassy, like still pools on the slide towards winter. Her grip was fragile and anaemic, but it tightened when she heard Sara's voice.

"It's important.” It was a whisper full of short-leashed pain; quiet and halting and _wet_.

SAM's voice came through Cora's omni-tool. "The Pathfinder is bleeding internally, Sara. The medi-gel has helped, but she will not survive long without surgery.”

"You're helping too, right?” Sara knew her voice was shaking. She couldn't help it.

"Yes, Sara. However, the Pathfinder -"

SAM hesitated. He _actually_ hesitated.

"What?”

Cora broke the silence. "The Roekaar took Scott and Liam,” she croaked. "And Reyes. You -"

She paused, then, her face contorting with pain - but she pushed it back. Her hand crept over to her gel-slicked wound. She _pressed_ , trembling, as she bit down on a whimper.

"Cora,” Jaal began -

"No.” Still biting her lip, Cora shook her head. "You need to know something.”

The hand still in Sara's grasp was shaking. Sara squeezed. She didn't really know why - except that she wanted it to stop. "The shuttle, SAM?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"On its way, Sara. The pilot estimates arrival in four minutes.”

"It was _him_ ," Cora snarled. She pressed harder on her wound, but she must have known as surely as Sara did that it wouldn't help the internal bleeding. "All this time -"

"What are you talking about?"

Cora's face went slack, then, and Sara's heart tried to clamber out through her throat. But her lips still moved - and their whispered words sent ice sheeting down Sara's back.

"It was Reyes. Reyes killed Jien Garson."

It had to be delirium.

Sara remembered how hard it was to think around the edges of a bullet; how agony smashed thoughts together like comets bisecting a star; how past and present blurred into kaleidoscopes of ash. Cora had been shot. She'd seen the others hauled away -

"I'm not hallucinating," Cora hissed - like she could read Sara's thoughts in her nerveless face. "Charon was his... accomplice, or something. He told us what Reyes did - and Reyes _admitted it_.”

Something cold and heavy settled behind the dip in Sara's collarbone; something sharp-edged and obstructing that started inching its way towards her heart.

"Who the hell is Charon?" Sara seized on that, because nothing else was tangible enough. Her limbs had turned to jelly. Her chest had turned to lead.

"Cable. The lawyer. He's trying to kill Reyes - tried to kill you.” Both of Cora's hands went back to Sara's. This time, her grip was almost crushing. "The Roekaar took him, too. If you leave now, you can catch them."

Suddenly, she gasped. Eyes rolling; lids fluttering, she bit down on her lip. Bright spots of blood bloomed where she broke skin. When she managed to speak again, it was through gritted teeth.

"If you take SAM, you'll have a chance."

Sara's heart stopped dead in her chest. The simple act of breathing lashed her throat with strips of fire.

_If she could have SAM back -_

_If Reyes killed Garson -_

"No." Her tumbling thoughts stopped dead, like a diver left to dangle from a cliff. "If I take SAM, you'll die.” She glanced at Jaal for back-up - but all she got was a solemn stare. "He's all that's keeping you alive."

"I'm dying anyway!" There were tears in Cora's eyes. "This way, SAM goes to you - and not to whoever Tann picks."

"I'm not going to kill you!"

"Sara," SAM interjected. "The Pathfinder's suggestion is reasonable. Even with my efforts to lessen her internal bleeding, the amount of movement necessary to obtain advanced medical attention is likely to have fatal consequences. Her chances of survival are -"

"I don't want to hear it, SAM!"

"Let me do this, Sara." Cora's lips were growing paler by the second. "You can still get Scott and Liam out of here alive."

"Cora, please -"

"I'm sorry," Cora whispered. The tears were falling, now. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let them take SAM away from you. I was so busy trying to be strong -"

"Shut up." Sara leaned in close enough to press her forehead against Cora's. She wasn't sure why she felt so much like she _needed to_ \- but she did. "Lexi can fix you! Jaal's going to take you back to the Tempest, and he's not going to leave your side."

Jaal sent her a worried glance. Sara didn't need words to know what he was thinking.

"You're going to be okay.” She whispered it against Cora's brow. "And we're going to laugh about this later. Got it?"

She felt Cora shaking her head. "SAM, initiate a system transfer to -"

"No!"

There was magma in Sara's veins; searing, rough-edged and painful. It rasped through her arteries and pooled in the chambers of her heart. The planet beneath her was shaking - or maybe that was just her bones dissolving.

_It was him. Reyes killed Jien Garson._

"Don't listen to a word she says, SAM. You're my friend, right?"

This time, SAM didn't hesitate. He didn't dissemble, and he didn't deflect.

"Yes."

"Then do me this one favour. Stay with Cora, and keep her alive."

A moment of silence greeted her words - but SAM didn't leave her hanging for long. "I will try, Sara."

Somewhere above them, a shuttle engine roared. Sara twisted around to look, ignoring the answering spike of pain in her ankle. "Jaal - can you pass me Cora's gun?”

He obliged, but not silently. He had to shout to be heard over the shuttle's descent. "Do you have a plan, Ryder?”

Sara scrambled to her feet, scraping blood and salt-stiff hair out of her eyes. Her injured leg didn't just hurt - it _seared_ , like a star exploding and collapsing all at once. But she couldn't slow down. She couldn't stop.

If she stopped, she'd have to think.

_It was him._

Together, they lifted Cora into the shuttle. She gave a broken groan as her torso left the ground, but it was proof she was still alive. The turian pilot helped to strap her down securely before hurrying back to the controls.

"Nav-point?”

Sara could barely hear him over the engine, and she didn't hear Jaal's reply at all - but as the shuttle started to rise and Sara hopped back down onto the ground, Jaal called out over the din.

"Ryder! I asked if you had a plan!”

Alone on the sand, Sara lifted a hand in farewell. It didn't matter what she said, really. She needed to get Cora to the Tempest, and she needed Jaal to go with her.

But Sara couldn't leave. Scott and Liam needed help. _Reyes_ needed help. Right now, there was nothing else that mattered.

Sara smiled as widely as she could - and the effort almost split her in two.

"Isharay, Jaal.”

\---

Three Roekaar escorted Reyes to the surface.

He supposed he should be flattered by the excess. He was unarmed, bound at the wrists, and sporting a terrifically painful bruise around his throat, but the angara still considered him a threat. Or perhaps they only considered him a flight risk. Reyes was trying to hide it, but frantic fear was building in his chest.

Inhaling gave it room to spread its skeletal, rattling wings. Exhaling was a matter of degrees. He was about to put Sara in danger again, and the very fibres of his bones fought against it.

The Roekaar leader was among Reyes' escort. _Taanor_ , the others called him. He wasn't gentle when he shouldered Reyes into the grip of the gravity well. As the ancient technology push-pulled him up towards the sunlight, Reyes couldn't help but think of fleeing. Still, the urge was short-lived. Even if he somehow managed to lose the Roekaar in the forest, they'd simply haul Scott up here instead. Sara's twin would call her himself - or force the angara to shoot him - and Reyes would have achieved nothing at all.

It didn't occur to him until later that he would have saved his own sorry skin.

The forest was quiet - deceptively so. The silence suggested the aerial skirmish was approaching its end, but Reyes knew better than to hope it was all over. He glanced at Taanor for permission before keying up his omni-tool. Reyes wasn't often at a loss for words, but his throat closed over as he punched in Sara's frequency. Waiting for a connection was like waiting for the stars to crumble.

When she answered, it felt just like they did.

"Reyes? Where are you?”

 _Shit_. Her voice was full of frantic worry, and Reyes wanted desperately to soothe it - but he couldn't. She needed to know the stakes, and he couldn't afford to give the Roekaar more ammunition. The less they knew about his relationship with Sara, the better.

"I'm just outside the vault,” he said. He was brusque and businesslike; abrupt. "Full disclosure - there are Roekaar here, too. Eight total. Three are with me, and the rest are inside.”

Reyes expected retribution from Taanor, but the Roekaar appeared completely unconcerned; he made eye contact with Reyes, but he didn't so much as blink. It seemed he didn't care what information Reyes shared.

So far, at any rate.

"Scott and Liam are inside,” Reyes continued. "It's a long story, but Cable is down there too. You know, the lawyer from your -"

"Charon.”

Reyes almost swallowed his tongue. It was a moment before he found the courage to respond.

"Yes.”

He might not have voiced the question, but Sara heard it anyway. "I spoke with Cora.” Her voice pitched lower, turning quiet like the lull before a fall.

An uncomfortable pressure blossomed below Reyes' breastbone.

She knew.

For a moment, Reyes couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to do - what to say; what to _think_ \- but whatever it was, there was no time for it now.

"The Roekaar want you to open the vault for them.” It was like speaking around a knife in his throat, but Reyes managed it. _Hell_. He even sounded calm. "They're threatening to kill Scott if you don't.” He wondered if she heard everything he didn't say.

_I'm sorry._

_I tried to keep you out of it._

_I love you._

If she did, she gave no sign of it. At first, she didn't respond at all - and the silence stretched for long enough to make the Roekaar nervous. Taanor nudged Reyes with the barrel of his gun.

"Check the connection.”

"I'm still here.” Sara’s voice was louder, now - and steely. If Taanor had really known who he was dealing with, he might have been afraid. "But if you want my help, you'll have to release my people.”

"Can you do it?” Taanor demanded.

Reyes knew what he was really asking, and he wanted an answer too. He _needed_ it, or at least something a lot like it; some small reassurance that he wasn't summoning her to die.

_Can you do it without SAM?_

"Cora's dead.” This time, Sara sounded like cracking glass. "SAM came back to me.”

Reyes felt it like a blow: horror; euphoria; despair -

"Sara -"

"Give me your answer.”

Even through the comm, Reyes could sense her drawing herself up; standing taller and straighter like she'd shuck the impact of a falling star.

"Let them go, and I'll open the vault. What do you say?”

Taanor glowered, but he wasn't a fool. He didn't waste time posturing or threatening. "Fine. Hand yourself over, and we'll release our prisoners.”

Alarm had displaced some of the pressure in Reyes' chest, but it didn't result in anything even close to relief. Sara _must_ be planning to bring back-up - how else could she hope to reach them, with an ankle so badly broken? Maybe the little green-eyed angara was stronger than she looked, or perhaps SAM was somehow helping her.

SAM.

It was then that he remembered the AI was logging everything.

"I'll see you soon,” Sara said. For a moment, she sounded almost gentle, but Reyes knew he could only be imagining it. "Take care of yourself.”

She knew - and thanks to SAM's logs, the Initiative did too.

"If you hurt them - _any of them_ \- I'll make you wish you never heard the name Ryder.”

\---

The roar of the departing shuttle engine hadn't faded from Sara's ears when the call came through. By the time the negotiation ended, she could feel it humming in her bones. She disconnected the call - and for a moment, she didn't move. She needed to focus. She needed to breathe.

She needed a _plan._

But she didn't have one. She had a broken ankle and a borrowed shotgun. She had the vault coordinates on her omni-tool, and a blatant lie still lingering on her lips. She had Reyes’ clipped-off words chasing circles in her head.

_They're threatening to kill Scott if you don't._

They’d kill Liam and Reyes, too.

She couldn't call Jaal back now - not without signing Cora's death warrant. She couldn't commandeer another shuttle, either; anyone she brought to the vault with her would be walking into a hostage situation that they'd probably never leave. If she took a squad, she'd only be giving the Roekaar a reason to shoot their captives.

And if she called on the Initiative, she'd be throwing Reyes to the wolves.

Sara didn't doubt it anymore. She'd heard it in his voice; in that strangled hesitation when she used Charon's name, and in the porcelain-calm undertone entangling his words. He knew exactly what Cora had told her.

And he didn't even try to deny it.

Sara took a trembling breath. The air was both thinner and heavier than normal; mixing and pooling in her lungs like a drawn-out drowning. All of it - _all of it_ -

She had to move. She still didn't have half of what she needed. She didn't have a plan, and she didn't have SAM. She didn't have any choices.

Sara took a step forward. Fire raced up her leg, but she took another anyway. Shaky breaths, creaking bone, _pain_ ; the taste of blood on her lip where she bit down. She wobbled alarmingly on her splint, but she didn't dare inspect it. She didn't dare stop, either.

She could do it, if she had to. She knew the truth of it right down to her bones.

SAM had shown her that it was possible to ignore pain; to push it aside until there was time and space to deal with it. He'd dulled her responses on a hundred separate occasions - and when the Archon had ripped him away from her, Sara had pushed it back herself. She'd walked through the starless darkness alone, and she'd stood on her own two feet.

She remained. She _existed_ , even now; whether SAM was with her or not. She'd walked through fire once.

And she could do it again.


	20. Twenty

Taanor left his two Roekaar companions standing watch at the top of the gravity well. Reyes would have given almost anything to wait there with them; to see Sara in the sunlight again, just once - but he knew it was a futile hope.

Being ushered back into the vault felt like being pushed head first into a tomb. The cavernous entryway had the same airless quality as a mausoleum, and Scott's pale face loomed like a spectre at the end of the obstructed corridor. Painted sickly green by the wall seams, he didn't even look like he was breathing.

Taanor shoved Reyes back to his knees when they rejoined the group - and if Reyes didn't know better, he would have thought the Roekaar was timing it; heavy hands propelled him forward at just the right moment and at just the right angle to send him lurching towards Charon's kneeling shadow. It sent them both towards the edge of the pathway, as well; towards one of the channels of liquid alloy that lined the edges of the passage.

For a moment, Reyes considered giving momentum a hand. He doubted even Charon could survive a dip in that particular river, at least not with his wrists still bound - and if Reyes found himself drowning too, well…

But Charon pivoted sideways, and Reyes lost his chance. Reyes still made a point of staggering into him with as much force as he could muster - and when they tumbled to the floor, he managed to drive his elbow into Charon's kidney. He could have sworn he heard something _pop._

But when he lifted his head, he found Charon smiling. Not cruelly, although the black eye contorted the expression; not beatifically - and not even blandly.

He looked almost amused. "Nice try."

One of the other Roekaar hauled Reyes back up onto his knees. She was smirking as well. Reyes glowered at Charon as she dragged him upright too, but he didn't miss the appraising look Taanor gave him as he beckoned the remaining Roekaar a short distance away. The angara clustered together, voices low. Taanor must be filling them in.

"So?" Scott hissed. He kept his voice low. "What happened?"

Reyes couldn't blame him for sounding so frantic. Beside him, Liam was almost unreadable - but Reyes was sure something approaching panic must lurk below that crisis-response calm.

Reyes gave his head a small shake. What was he _doing?_

What did it matter what Liam's worry looked like? Why should he care if Scott was scared? Here he was, focusing on inconsequential details, when somewhere above them -

Sara knew. The Initiative knew. SAM, Scott, Liam - and, soon, the rest of the Tempest's surviving crew - _everyone_ knew. But there was no point in fearing the consequences of one action when the impact of another had a gun to his head. So he swallowed his terror. He bottled his rage. He tangled that scurrying litany in his head - the one that went _Sara, Sara, Sara_ -

And he shoved it aside.

"She's on her way. SAM went back to her."

Understanding washed over them like water down a crumbling cliffside. Scott's brows pulled together. His mouth fell open in a whispered _no_. Liam closed his eyes - just briefly - and shook his head.

"The Pathfinder's dead, huh?" Charon's smile finally faded. His bloodied lips thinned into a hard line of displeasure, and the beginnings of a frown pulled at his brow. "Figures."

Whatever this was, it had to be a trick - but Scott took the bait.

"What does?" His voice was thick with unshed tears.

Charon sighed; long-suffering and dramatic - but rigid at the edges. "I've been going after a human Pathfinder for a while. It figures the one that went down isn't even the one I wanted."

"You worthless piece of -"

"What? Aren't you happy it wasn't your sister?"

Scott's cheeks were white with rage. He pulled at his cuffs, shoulders shaking, and took one staggering step forward on his knees. Reyes didn't miss how Charon positioned himself at the edge of the alloy river, ready to lurch to the side if Scott came at him.

"Scott." Liam seemed reluctant to speak too loudly, and Scott didn't seem to hear him. " _Scott!_ "

"There's one thing I don't understand," Reyes muttered.

For some reason, that seemed to snap Scott out of it. He stopped. He was still glaring at Charon; still shaking - still _vibrating_ with frenzied despair and guilt - but he stopped.

He wanted answers, too.

Charon's gaze turned to Reyes. "One?" He laughed, then, _bitter_ \- and Reyes knew that sound for the truth.

Charon had lost. Reyes had, too. Neither was ready to give up, because there were still _degrees_ of losing - but that laughter was a skeletal admission.

There were no winners here.

"One," Reyes repeated. He kept his voice to a harsh whisper. "The rest is obvious."

"Then explain it to _us_ ," Liam muttered. His eyes were fixed on the huddle of Roekaar, but they seemed to be paying their prisoners little mind.

Reyes intended to. Not because he needed to hear it said, or because he needed confirmation - but because it might hold Scott over until his sister arrived. If Scott got any ideas about liquid-metal drownings, Sara would be walking into danger for nothing.

"The outlaws harassing the local angara," Reyes began. "The ones with the stronghold on the volcano - they're yours. They're Sloane Kelly's leftovers, and whatever villains you could find without a credit to their name."

Charon only watched him, the ghost of that smile still tugging at his lips.

"I'm not sure how you found this planet - chance, I suspect, like Sara - but the element zero cache in the Vaalon system came from here. You wanted to start a fight, and an eezo haul that large could start far more than one."

It was a tense thing, laying it all out like this. If he _had_ misunderstood something; if he'd gotten it wrong -

"Why?" Scott demanded. He was looking at Reyes, now.

Charon scoffed. "Why does anyone do anything?"

"Power." Reyes ignored the way Scott's gaze turned suddenly searching. "You fancied yourself an eezo kingpin," he continued, taking Charon's silence as tacit confirmation. "You wanted to neutralize the Collective - or to take it over, perhaps - but you knew you wouldn't succeed while we were allied with the Initiative. So you had your people stage raids on Nexus ships, and you baited your trap."

His next words weren't as careful as the others. They shook with restrained rage. "You knew Tann would blame Sara."

Charon's shrug was noncommittal, but there was something about the way his eyes caught the alien light that told Reyes he was enjoying this. "Tann would blame anyone but himself, I imagine - but Ryder _was_ an easy target. All those rumours about her and the Charlatan - all those blacked-out hours on her SAM logs…"

"Don't we know it." Liam was glaring at Reyes, and Reyes could have been reading his thoughts. _This is your fault._

Maybe Liam was right. If Reyes had worked out Charon's game earlier - _before_ Cora's attack on the Elaaden lab; before pain and loss and pressure-cooker priorities had kicked off this hurricane they were all caught in - things might have ended very differently.

But he'd been distracted. If he closed his eyes for too long, he could still feel Sara sobbing into his chest.

_I just keep losing people. First mom, then dad. Now SAM._

_Don't ever leave me, Reyes. Please._

He had to take a breath before he could continue. "You thought the Charlatan would take revenge for her sentence on Tann, but it didn't happen. The accord didn't collapse." The air filled his lungs with blue-green fire; stole it, still dancing, from the dim lights in the walls. "So you tried to kill her instead."

"I figured that might make the mysterious Charlatan upset." Charon smiled again, and Reyes felt the inside of his throat begin to char. "Was I right?"

"Which brings me to my question." Reyes kept his face impassive. The Roekaar's discussion was dying away, and he didn't have much time before they put a stop to their prisoners' whispering. "You tried to blow her up - and _then_ you tried to tell me you were on my side. What did you think you were going to achieve?"

Charon hesitated. He opened his mouth, closed it -

And suddenly, Reyes had it. It was written in Charon's too-still expression. It had the shape of his confected indifference.

"You were afraid of me."

Something raced across Charon's features. It could have been shock; disgust; _rage_ \- but it was gone almost the instant it appeared. When he spoke, his voice was flat.

"I didn't know that you were _you_ until you showed up on the Nexus to look for her. I needed to see if we could be allies again."

Needed. Reyes could have laughed. Charon wasn't the kind of man that needed people, but everyone needed to breathe. He hadn't wanted an alliance; he'd needed a _truce_ \- because by messing with the Charlatan, he'd been messing with Reyes Vidal.

With Anubis.

Maybe the revelation should have made Reyes feel powerful - but it didn't. "You looked me in the eyes." The words were heavy enough to dent the floor. "And you told me that I should be _grateful._ "

"You made it pretty clear that you already suspected me." Charon tried straight-shouldered defiance, but his black eye and bloodied lip made pride look like petulance. The purpling bruise around his neck made it look like folly. "What should I have done? Admitted everything? Begged for mercy?"

"You pretended that she had a chance."

"And as it turned out, she did."

"You should have left her out of it." Reyes' voice was as dense and cold as sea ice. He wasn't sure where the fire had gone, but he could feel himself spiraling; slipping that tightly-reigned tether he'd set for himself. He didn't know how to stop. "When you ran away, and you realized that I'd followed you to your bolthole - what did it feel like?"

Charon didn't answer the question, but he must have known he didn't need to. Even if he never admitted it - even if he went to his grave with fierce denials on his lips - Reyes knew exactly what he'd felt. He'd seen it in every bad decision Charon had made since touching down. He'd felt it in the desperate strength crushing his windpipe.

Fear.

"Neither of you are leaving here alive."

Charon didn't so much as glance at Scott or Liam as he said it. He wasn't referring to them.

"I have people razing the local villages." His eyes were feverish. They sucked down the pallid light like sheer hatred could leach the colour from a star. "They're outfitted in the Collective gear we used for the supply ship raids. Now that I know who's really in charge of your organization, I almost feel like I needn't have bothered with any of it - but it never hurts to be sure.

"They know what you did, Anubis." Charon's lips pulled back in a sneer. "The Pathfinder's AI has it, which means that the Nexus has it too. No matter what happens here, Heleus will turn on the Collective. Your _kingdom_ is going to fall." He spat the word as if he couldn't bear the taste. "Sara Ryder will be remembered as a disgrace. And you?

"You won't be remembered at all."

The words were glass shards under Reyes' skin. They were red smoke across his vision and cold vacuum in his chest.

"Reyes." It was Liam that said it, his voice quiet and steady. "Don't let him get in your head."

He nodded at the huddle of Roekaar. Taanor was watching them, his arms folded across his chest. The angara's expression was unreadable.

Charon _wanted_ Reyes to lunge. He wanted a conflict he could turn into a bath in liquid alloy, or maybe just a Roekaar bullet in Reyes' brain. Reyes could push the fury aside, if he had to; crush it down into nebular dust and shove it away for later.

Just like he'd done with everything else that mattered to him.

Charon wasn't ready to give up. He leaned forward, knuckles braced on the floor in front of him like he was fighting to stay grounded in a gale. Maybe he thought Reyes' rage was something he could weather like a storm.

"Even if you save her, she's never going to let it go. She knows who you are, now." Charon's sneer turned into a smirk. It stirred that dust in Reyes' chest; sent it upwards in tangled flurries like debris in a dying breeze. "You're just like me."

Reyes clenched his fists. Charon saw it, and he grinned.

"Worse, even."

A moment passed. Another -

Until Scott broke the silence. "You're a fucking monster."

For the space between one shallow breath and the next, Reyes thought the words were meant for him - but Scott's eyes were fixed on Charon. His face was bloodless. His jaw was set.

"And Reyes has never been like you."

\---

If there was a _later_ to be had, Sara wasn't sure that she would see it.

The space battle overhead seemed to be in its death throes; weapons fire from above was only intermittently audible now, and her view of the Scourge-streaked sky was reassuringly empty. If she encountered any difficulties at ground level, though, she had only a shotgun and half-starved biotics to get her out of trouble. If any Collective impersonators stumbled across her, or if she wandered into the path of a Remnant patrol -

Walking was hard. _Breathing_ was hard.

But she kept going.

It took her longer than she'd hoped to reach the vault, but less time than she'd feared. When her surroundings began to take a familiar shape, she worried that she might be imagining it, but her omni-tool confirmed that she was getting close. The realization turned the air sharp and sweet, wearing at the tapered barbs in her leg until they were slightly blunted - slightly _mute._

The going got easier, then. When the understory started to thin out, she slowed.

There it was. If she peered out between the trees, she could see a diffuse clearing. The muddy slope was there, too - and two angara standing guard at the edge of the gravity well. They had to be Roekaar.

Sara had been called reckless in her time; stupid, too, when Scott was particularly annoyed with her - and neither accusation was wholly incorrect. She was a risk-taker. She was impulsive, but she wasn't thoughtless.

And she'd given a lot of thought to this.

Once the vault was open, the Roekaar were sure to want it activated. Sara couldn't say with any certainty what its function might be, but she could take a guess. The Roekaar were probably working on guesses, too - and she would bet her good leg that they were based on the same thing as hers. She wondered if Aali would realize it, sometime in that _later_ that Sara wouldn't see. Hell - if Aali hadn't been so kind and wide-eyed earnest, Sara might have thought she'd planned this.

They were her words, after all; spoken with enthusiasm in both Taanor's hearing and Sara's.

_There has not been an eruption in more than fifty years now. We're far past the usual cycle time, which I suppose is good news for us._

If the Roekaar wanted the invading _vesegara_ gone, blowing up their volcano stronghold seemed like a good place to start. Putting aside the worry that an eezo eruption might bring the local angara to some sort of harm, Sara didn't have really have a problem with the plan. She would help them - with a smile, if they asked for one. Just so long as her friends went free.

Or she _would_ have, anyway. She had no idea if she could even open the vault. When the Archon had taken SAM away from her that first time, she'd been able to use the Remnant interfaces alone - but SAM had been gone from her head for weeks.

There was every chance it wouldn't work.

She glanced down at her leg. The Roekaar probably didn't know about purification fields, but Sara didn't care. Her leg was shaking. Badly.

Even if she managed to activate the vault, Sara wasn't going to be outrunning anything.

There was one thing left to do. She made a silent retreat, limping just far enough away to be confident she wouldn't be heard - then plunged into the thickest part of the foliage, struggling through clinging undergrowth and vine-twisted tangles of fronds. She had promised herself she wouldn't do this, but she didn't want to leave things the way she had. Her omni-tool hung on _connecting_ for seconds that seemed much longer than they should have.

It made sense, of course. Cora was probably in surgery by now. SAM would be busy with other things. He'd be busy keeping his last promise to her -

"Hello, Sara."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Hi, SAM." It was good to hear his voice.

"I must warn you that we may experience some slight delays in communication," he said. "Electromagnetic transmissions routed through the Pathfinder's QEC node appear to be affected by general anesthetic."

"She's in surgery, then?" Sara's lips felt numb, too.

"Dr. T'Perro intends to commence the procedure shortly," SAM told her. "The Pathfinder's condition is critical, but stable. Regrettably, current circumstances would threaten the integrity of any large data transmissions. It is too late for me to transfer back to you."

"That's okay," Sara whispered. She tried to ignore her burning eyes. "I don't want you to transfer."

It took a few seconds for SAM to respond - but Sara didn't think it was a download delay. "You do not want my help."

"No, SAM! I do." Sara's whispers had given way to almost-sobs, but she couldn't let herself cry. She couldn't ruin this. "But I don't think you can help me now."

"Do you require assistance?"

"I just want you to know what happened, okay? That's why I'm calling - but you have to promise not to tell the others."

"I do not understand."

"I mean -" Sara was almost babbling, now. She managed a deep breath, but it was a close thing. "You _can_ tell them. You _should_ tell them - but not until we know that the Roekaar's hostages are safe."

SAM didn't reply. He was probably waiting for an explanation.

"I just don't want you to think that I…" She couldn't finish. "I don't want anyone to think this was about -"

"About what?"

"I don't _want_ to die, SAM."

There was another delay. If SAM had been human, Sara would have thought that he was struggling to speak.

"I know."

So she told him: about the Roekaar's demands, and the probable function of the vault; about her trek through the jungle, and her deal to save the people she loved. She asked him to issue a warning about the volcano. It was better to be safe than sorry.

She told him about her fears, too. Reinforcements, if they weren't overwhelming, would only put the hostages at risk. If she failed to open the vault, the Roekaar might punish her for wasting their time. Either way, Sara told him, she needed to do this alone.

SAM just listened. Sara would never be sure if it was just her imagination; an effect of their weeks of separation, maybe, or agony and exhaustion taking their toll - or if SAM really did hear everything she didn’t say.

"I am sorry, Sara."

"For what?"

"I am sorry that you have found yourself in this position. I am also sorry about Mr. Vidal."

Sara squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't reply.

"I would appreciate your opinion on an important matter."

The Roekaar would wait, right? They had to. "Go ahead."

"If the Pathfinder were conscious, I would ask for her assistance, but I cannot be certain if or when she will awaken. I am in need of advice regarding the logs I have recorded since the Tempest's landing."

"How do you mean? You've been logging continuously, haven't you?"

"Yes. However, I have not yet committed those records to Initiative archives."

Sara froze. Briefly, she wondered if she'd heard him wrong - but _no_.

"Why not?"

"Before our separation, you often described yourself and Mr. Vidal as the functioning halves of one system."

Sara breathed a shaky sigh. It had started with a conversation an awful lot like this one; one that followed their usual map of stilted but comfortable introspection _._ SAM had asked her to label her relationship with Reyes - and she'd had fallen back on the phrase every time he pressed for more.

Now, it just turned her knees to water. "I remember."

"It follows," SAM continued, "that to present evidence of his confession to Initiative authorities would be to cause harm to both halves of said system. It would be to cause harm to you."

The air began to freeze, then; to crystallize, almost, as if the frost creeping up through Sara's chest was spilling out around her. Even blinking took a glacial eternity.

"You're asking if you should delete it."

"It is within my capabilities."

He didn't sound uncomfortable, of course, because SAM never did - but he _must_ understand what he was proposing. He had to.

"You should be aware that the logs are also the only proof we have that Aidan Cable is anything more than a recently awakened lawyer. It is unlikely that the Initiative leadership will accept verbal testimony as a substitute for audiovisual records, given the views they expressed regarding the deletion of earlier logs."

"You mean…"

"If the records are deleted, I will possess little evidence with which to clear your name."

"Oh."

Sara wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or not. The pressure was there, turning somersaults behind her sternum. The irony was there, too. Her name could be cleared, but the rest of her was screwed.

She just didn't have enough air.

"I am unable to reach a conclusion that satisfies both my duty to the Initiative and my duty to you."

The air came, then; hot enough to sear as it whistled through her lungs. "You don't have a duty to me, SAM."

"I disagree," he replied. "My time as your partner taught me that all relationships are based on dynamic equilibria."

It took her a moment. "Give and take?"

"Yes. Consider your current situation. You intend to place yourself in a potentially unsalvageable position in order to ensure the safety of people you care about. That affection was fostered as a result of the way those people have treated you in the past. Your goals could be seen as repayment for their actions."

Sara snorted, but it came out more like a sob. "You make it sound so _bleak_."

"Neither your words nor your actions have ever suggested that you would require me to do so," SAM began. "But I would appreciate the chance to repay you."

"SAM -"

"What do you wish me to do?"

Sara shook her head. She knew he couldn't see it; couldn't _feel_ it, either, no matter how desperately she wanted him to. She didn't want to verbalize her feelings. Giving them voice would give them weight - and giving them weight would make them real.

Sara didn't need saving. She was beyond it.

But Reyes?

He was going to live. Sara didn't care what she had to do to ensure it; he was leaving this planet alive. If she told SAM to delete the logs, he could leave it _safely_ , too.

And happy, maybe. Eventually.

She wanted to protect him, the same way that he was always trying to protect her - but _shit._ There was a line somewhere, wasn't there? There _had_ to be. It shouldn't matter how much she loved him. It shouldn't matter how loudly her heart screamed _they couldn’t take him._

"Don't do anything," she whispered. It felt like someone else was speaking; like not even her voice was her own anymore. "Wait for Cora to wake up. It should be her decision."

"Sara -"

"Goodbye, SAM." She'd said it before, and she'd thought it would be the end of her. It was oddly comforting to know that, this time, it was. "You know how much I love you, right?"

An AI couldn't sound choked up. She knew SAM wasn't capable of it, and she knew their biochemical connection was long gone -

But she felt his answer like a body blow anyway.

"Yes."


	21. Twenty One

The Roekaar in the clearing treated Sara almost gently. It might have been the gun in her hands, or the quivering ruin of her ankle - or it might have been the look in her eyes. Either way, they stood aside to allow her entry, although Sara didn't miss their scanning gazes on the tree line. One followed her into the well, his shadow looming over her through the whole of the water-lit fall.

It was like being pursued by a falling moon.

When she hit the floor, she stumbled, one nova-bright spike of pain spearing deep into the space behind her eyes. But she kept her feet. Six armed angara were watching her from the far edge of the circular chamber. She recognized Taanor at the front of the group, his grip on his rifle relaxed but intent. They were blocking her view of the corridor beyond.

It was so quiet. The vault's whispered hum was like a drum beat. In that first terror-stretched instant, Sara could hear the splashing of its lifeblood.

But she walked right up to Taanor. She looked him in the eye.

"Where are they?"

Taanor's eyes were on her shotgun. "Hand over your weapon."

"Not until I see them."

Taanor took a moment to consider her, his eyes roaming from her bloodied clothes to her splinted leg. He must have decided she didn't pose any real threat, because he gestured to his meagre phalanx. Slowly, they parted formation.

And there they were. They were bound and kneeling at the end of a darkened corridor, but they were also indisputably alive _._ Scott was there, pale and wide-eyed - and Liam, too, glowering but apparently unharmed. Cable - or Charon, she supposed - was there as well. His face was battered, his neck encircled by ugly bruising -

And there was Reyes. Black and purple bloomed across the bottom of his jaw, his throat marked by bruising much thinner and darker than Charon's. His lips parted when he saw her, panic flaring bright behind his eyes.

Sara felt a pang of guilt. She must look like a dead woman walking.

Reyes didn't react when Charon leaned towards him, muttering something that Sara couldn't hear. He just _looked_ at her, still and silent - like he was on his knees beneath a cloudless sky, watching every star there was fade out.

The distance between them felt wider than dark space.

Sara's voice trembled. "You hurt him."

Taanor scoffed, the corners of his mouth curling upward in amusement. "We've hardly touched him, Ryder." He couldn't know which of the battered prisoners she was talking about, but Sara supposed it didn't matter. "If you want someone to punish, look to the man beside him."

Charon. Sara turned her glare on him. If she had passed him on the sidewalk, she wouldn't have recognized him. It wasn't just the black eye; all of the privileged charm and confidence had vanished.

"You've seen them." It sounded like Taanor was speaking up from underwater. "Hand over your gun."

Sara obeyed. One of the Roekaar reached out as if to stop her when she lurched forwards, but Taanor stilled him with a shake of his head. Every step she took down the gently sloping corridor felt like adding one more winding to her funeral shroud. The air grew heavy; cold; confining - like she was swimming out to sea with rocks in every pocket. She didn't stop until she was right in front of them; until Reyes' eyes roamed over her, from splint to red-stained hands, and Scott tried to stand up.

"Sara -"

One of the Roekaar stepped forward. She forced him back down, one hand curling tight around the back of his neck.

Sara's heartbeat filled her ears. It was erratic; fluttering - like a faltering engine or a dying storm. Scott looked like he expected her to pull a rabbit out of a hat she'd forgotten to wear, and Liam failed to hide his wary hope. Sara hated to dash it, but -

"You promised to let them go."

Taanor moved up to join them. His gaze moved over the kneeling captives, from Charon to Reyes; Liam to Scott. "I will. As soon as you open the vault."

Sara fought the urge to clench her fists. "And I will. As soon as you release them."

Taanor nodded to the Roekaar restraining Scott - and she pressed a pistol to the back of his head.

Sara's whole body locked up. "Back off."

Scott's eyes dropped to the floor. "Why am I always the hostage, huh?"

Whether he was trying to keep himself calm, or just trying to make things easier on her, Sara couldn't say.

"I'll help you get in there," she snarled. She was speaking to Taanor, but her eyes were on the gun against Scott's skull. "But I swear to god - if you hurt so much as a hair on his _fucking_ head, you'll never see the inside of this vault."

Taanor's expression didn't so much as flicker. "I want you to prove it."

"What?"

"Prove that you can open it."

Sara crossed her arms. She wished she was a better liar. "Why would I do that? If I open it, I lose my leverage."

"Well." Taanor took half a step back. He gestured at the woman with the gun -

"Wait." That was Liam. "Does this place sound small to you, Ryder?"

Even Taanor boggled at him. "What?"

Sara wished she could kick him in the ribs. She knew what he was getting at; that distant sound of lapping liquid implied a vault much larger than what they'd seen of it. There had to be at least half a dozen doors between here and the centre of it all. If Sara really had feared she would lose her usefulness when she activated the first console, it would have been great news.

But she feared she couldn't do it at all.

"Open the first door," Liam explained - as if her blank-faced silence stemmed from a lack of understanding. "They get their proof, and no one gets shot."

Taanor was watching her expectantly, a hint of triumph in his eyes. It was her own fault, Sara knew. Lying to the Roekaar about Cora and SAM meant that she'd lied to her own people as well - but there hadn't been any way around it.

There wasn't any way around this, either.

Sara stepped up to the Remnant console, ignoring a final stab of pain from her ankle. She felt the weight of the room settle on her; the weight of almost a dozen breathless stares. They were all watching. All waiting. There was ballast in her rib cage and a world around her neck.

It made her chest ache. If she couldn't do it -

If she screwed this up -

She closed her eyes. She blocked all of it out: the Roekaar's glowering, the gun to Scott's head, and the pressure of Liam's expectations. But she could feel Reyes behind her, close and warm and solid; burning like a vibrant and unseen star. Even now, that pull that had always lived between them persisted.

She wished that it were otherwise.

Sara spread her palm across the console. It was strange to feel the slender pillars beneath bare fingertips; to reach for alien understanding with only the scarcest memory of SAM. It was harder to think like the Jardaan, now.

And it hurt.

White-laced pain raced along her synapses, hot and sharp and scouring; shredding myelin from nerve-sheaths as it leapt from branch to branch. Sara gasped, fingernails catching on the console keys as they fluttered through their activation sequence. It hurt so _much_.

More than her ankle. More than losing SAM. More than battlefield surgery on a prison cell floor -

But the door slid open.

And Sara could breathe again. She couldn't snatch her fingers away, though, and she couldn't collapse - even if that was all she had the strength for.

So she molded her face into a glare. She straightened her shoulders, and she dashed away the trickle of blood from her nose.

When she turned around, Taanor was smiling tightly. His eyes were on the scene over her shoulder: a narrow path mapping a yawning abyss, all bathed in a shifting haze of blue-green light. Liam was eyeing the rest of the Roekaar like he thought all of this was a cunning distraction. Scott was leaning away from the gun.

But Reyes was watching Sara. His eyes widened with horror - and he suddenly scrunched up his nose. It took her a second to understand, but she gave her mouth and nose another hurried swipe. Her hand came away smeared with blood. By the time the Roekaar's focus returned, Reyes' face was unreadable again. Sara hid her hand behind her thigh.

She hoped to god her face was clean.

"We had an agreement," she said firmly.

"We did." Taanor didn't appear to notice anything strange about Sara's appearance, but he did seem impatient. "But if I release them, what guarantee would I have that more _vesegara_ would not flank us?" He shook his head, and he hefted his weapon. "No. While I would like to keep my word -"

"I'll lock them out!"

The reactions were immediate. Sara knew what she was saying; they _all_ did, save Charon and the Roekaar. Liam's eyes went wide, Scott flinched like she'd struck him, and they both glanced at her splinted ankle. Until now, they'd probably thought she was giving them room to retreat and regroup. They'd probably planned to race back in and save her.

She couldn't look at Reyes.

"What are you _doing?"_ Scott made as if to stand up again, but his captor's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"One door's open," Sara said quietly. She ignored her brother completely. "But there are definitely more you'll need to get through. I'm telling you now that if you let them go, I'll help you without complaint." She paused. She wanted her next words to sink in - and she needed to gather the strength to give them voice. "But killing them is killing _me_. Do you understand?"

The other Roekaar glanced at each other. Taanor, though - he just stared at her, his gaze heavier than the earth above their heads. He clearly understood the implication, but Sara had to wonder if he doubted her. It might almost have been funny if he had. Not _funny_ funny, of course, but the kind of funny that made your eyes roll back and your heart sink down into your stomach.

Sara had never been more serious in her life.

It felt like she'd lived and mourned a lifetime before Taanor finally replied. "Take them to the surface," he said to Scott's aggressor. "And set their cuffs to release in one hour."

Sara couldn't contain a sigh of relief. She took one last look at Liam; at Scott -

And her gaze fell on Charon. His eyes were fixed firmly on the floor, but Sara knew what he was thinking. He was hoping to go unnoticed. He was praying the exhausted Sara Ryder might overlook the rat in the corner.

Maybe the Sara Ryder of a few short weeks ago would have - but today's Sara Ryder was the last one there would ever be. She hadn't forgotten what Cora had told her.

_Cable. The lawyer. He's trying to kill Reyes - tried to kill you._

This was the man who had broken into Peebee's apartment that lonely night on the Nexus. He'd murdered Sara's shuttle pilot, and blasted Sara out of the sky. He'd shot Cora, too - and Sara had a feeling she knew who had painted that black and purple slash across Reyes' throat. She could jump to more conclusions, but she didn't really need to.

A purification field would catch a rat as easily as the rest of them. _Easier_ , if Sara had any say in it.

She pointed at Charon. "Don't take this one away. I need his help."

Charon's head snapped up. His eyes weren’t quite as fearful as Sara would have liked, but she supposed that was a good thing. If he'd known what awaited him once Sara gave the Roekaar what they wanted, he'd be sure to warn them of her plan.

Taanor frowned at her. Charon was searching Sara's face; looking for some hint of ill intent - and so were Scott and Liam, though probably for other reasons. Maybe they thought she had some clever way out. Maybe they hoped she had an ace up her sleeve.

Maybe Reyes thought that, too. She tried to steer her gaze away, but it fell on him unwillingly - and when her eyes met his, something inside her fell away. His expression was completely closed off. Sara knew that it was only for the best, but it cut right through her anyway. There was a time she believed she was the only one who saw him.

 _I want all of you,_ she'd told him once.

_I want all of you._

Sara dragged her gaze away, only to find Taanor exasperated. "Fine." He gestured at Charon sharply. Clearly, he understood that Charon wasn't one of Sara's people - and he wouldn't give a damn if she shoved him into the chasm. "Bring that one with us. We need to move."

He grabbed her by the forearm -

And Reyes leapt to his feet. He neatly dodged the nearest Roekaar's lunge.

"She needs me, too."

There was a Roekaar gun barrel at his head before he even finished speaking. Reyes didn't flinch, but Sara's heart tumbled over on its tether. Taanor's grip on her arm tightened.

"We're not taking a team down with her," Taanor said. He spoke quietly - and dangerously. "You can head for the surface - _now_ \- or we can put a bullet in your skull."

"She's broken her ankle," Reyes persisted. Sara had never seen him this intense; this _focused_ \- even when he was facing down Sloane Kelly. "She's going to need help."

"She seems to be walking fine all on her own -"

"I insist."

It wasn't the words, but the way he said them: curt; commanding; _powerful_. Sara could see the thunderclouds settling as Taanor's expression darkened. His eyes darkened, too, like an ocean shadowed by a storm. He snarled something that Sara's translator didn't pick up. The Roekaar behind Reyes hefted her gun - and cracked him across the head.

Reyes fell, but he didn't cry out. He landed on his knees, shoulders straining against his bonds. He swayed slightly, fresh blood spattering the floor beneath him -

But his eyes stayed fixed on Sara.

"Stop!" Sara couldn't hear herself over the roaring in her ears. "Stop!"

The Roekaar's pistol went back to Reyes' skull. Her finger was hovering so close to that trigger -

"If you hurt him, _I swear to god -_ "

"Stop." Taanor's voice was quiet.

For a moment, it all came to a stop. The world was utterly still, save for that dull and distant hum. Taanor's eyes glinted like black opals, but Sara couldn't read them. There were whispers in her head, and lost moments crowding close at the base of her skull. If they shot him -

_Don't ever leave me, Reyes._

"Skkut. Let him up."

The words were like a needle to the pressure in Sara's chest. The air displaced when Reyes staggered to his feet blew through her like a gale, pushing glass-weave organs flush against the curve of her spine. Reyes' eyes were still fixed on hers. Sara could have tumbled right into them; head over heels, with her knuckles hooked white around her collarbones.

He had to leave. He _had to_ , or he was just as doomed as she was. No matter what he'd done - in this life or the last -

Sara already knew what it felt like to lose him. She'd die before it happened again.

"Reyes -"

Taanor cut her off. "Leave him," he snarled at the nearest Roekaar, "and take the others to the surface. Ryder - _not another word._ "

For a moment, it looked like Scott might refuse to leave as well; like some mixture of shock and wilful affection had fused his feet to the floor - but a gun barrel against his spine finally pushed him towards the exit. Liam lingered, too, but only for a moment.

"Be here when you get out, Pathfinder."

 _Pathfinder._ Sara hoped her smile showed him just how much it meant to her.

She watched in wintry silence as a pair of Roekaar herded them away. The corridor seemed much longer from this side of the event, like perspective stretched the space almost into relativity - but it seemed that even an endless distance could be crossed. Scott called out to her at the bottom of the well.

"Sara, please -"

"It's all right, Scott!" She was almost grateful when gravity stole his stricken look away, and it didn't matter that he couldn't hear her next words. "Say hi to mom for me."

Reyes was examining his cuffs. He might have been considering a demand for their removal, but one glance at Taanor seemed to cure him of that notion. He sidled closer to Sara as the Roekaar formed up around them. They were the centre of a circle fronted by Taanor and hemmed in by gunmetal. Charon was trapped inside as well - and Reyes made a point of placing himself between them.

"Lean on me," he murmured.

Sara nodded. She hooked one arm over his shoulder, balancing her weight with her other hand on his elbow. His cuffs made it more difficult than it should have been, and Sara found herself fighting down whimpers as he helped her over the threshold.

His mouth was against her ear. "SAM's not with you, is he?"

Sara shook her head. She wanted to turn towards him; to touch him; to tell him that he should have run -

But now that he was touching her, she didn't know if she could look him in the eye.

_It was him._

They waited in silence for the remaining Roekaar to return. It didn't take long; three angara dropped down the well a few moments later and hurried over to rejoin their fellows.

Taanor turned to Sara. "Lock it."

The air turned thin as she pressed her palm against the console on the new side of the door. She hesitated - but Reyes' hands came up to grip her dangling one. He was expecting her to try something; to push him out the door, maybe, and seal it tight behind her. It would probably give her game away to the Roekaar, but Sara might have been desperate enough to try it.

Her plan hadn't stretched this far.

\---

Reyes could have sworn that he had cuffs around his throat again.

Sara's whole body went rigid when her fingers touched the Remnant machine. He clung to her tightly as her muscles locked up; fought down his terror as she choked on a gasp. Charon's gaze bored into them all the while, tangible as a knifepoint and colder than dark space. The door that the Roekaar had been so intent on opening closed, but it seemed like an eternity before Sara opened her eyes again.

They were clear. They were determined. There was no fresh bleeding this time, but Reyes had no faith in omens.

Why did she lie to him about SAM?

"You should have told me," he breathed into her hair. The irony wasn't lost on him, of course.

It wasn't lost on her, either. "You should have told _me_."

And _shit_ \- he wished he knew what she was thinking, but her shaking only said she was exhausted. Her ragged breathing only proved she was in pain. He squeezed her hand, and she didn't squeeze back.

She bit her lip, though, and looked at him like she could see the end of the world laid out in front of them. "You shouldn't have stayed."

Reyes' answer wasn't a conscious one. It was ripped from somewhere between his cell membranes.

"I couldn't have left."

"Let's go," Taanor said.

The path around the edge of the cavern was narrow. Its right-hand side formed a perfect seal with the cavern wall, and its left presented a sheer drop into a vast chasm. The air above and around them was filled with some sort of faintly luminescent haze. Down amidst the darkness at the bottom of the void, Reyes could just make out the vague shapes of pyramids. He couldn't see the ceiling - or, for that matter, the other side of the gap - and the surface beneath his feet wasn't carved from rock. It was paved with articulating hexagonal tiles that shone with the same eerie half-light all Remnant alloy possessed. Reyes couldn't examine the space directly beneath them, but he could see the road ahead curving around a bulge in the cavern wall.

They were suspended over nothingness.

Sara's injured leg forced her to walk on his left, still stifling hisses of pain. Reyes kept them both as close to the wall as he could - which meant, of course, as far as possible from the drop. Charon walked behind them, trapped within the circle of Roekaar, and Reyes found his silence more threatening than his ranting. Reyes would have killed to be bringing up the rear instead, but he didn't dare demand another favour from Taanor. He suspected he wouldn't survive it.

His heart was racing. His thoughts were turning frenzied figure-eights. He knew what awaited them at the end of this little caving trip - and he didn't have the slightest idea for getting out of it.

And Charon's stare never faltered.

Eventually, their silent procession reached another door. Sara tensed up when it came into view - but she breathed a quiet sigh a moment later, her body losing some of its steel-rod strain. Reyes took that to mean that she wouldn't need to interface with this one. A moment later, his suspicion was confirmed; the door opened when the Roekaar vanguard approached.

It led them away from the endless chasm, guiding them instead into a series of twisting corridors. The passageways were lit only by seam lights in the walls. The cold glow illuminated more liquid alloy channels at the edges of the floor; narrower than the others, at no more than an inch or so across - but Reyes still gave them a wide berth. He was listening for the rhythm of Charon's footsteps.

They encountered their second obstacle a short while later. The warren ended abruptly - so abruptly that one of the angara almost stepped into an abyss. They stood before another apparently infinite chasm, but not a path to follow. The streams of flowing metal trickled right over a precipice.

There was a Remnant console a few feet away.

Sara moved towards it. For the briefest of moments - a blip on the picosecond scale - Reyes resisted. He dug his heels in. He wouldn't let her hurt for him; wouldn't let her bleed -

But he wasn't an idiot. Recovering himself, he brushed a subtle kiss across her cheek. Sara didn't react - and when she planted her hand on the console, that familiar rigor overtook her.

A path materialized in front of them.

Reyes knew his jaw was hanging, but he couldn't summon the brain power to fix it. Hexagonal tiles were hovering there in mid-air. The surface they formed only extended a few metres out over the chasm - but when Taanor took a careful step out onto it, new tiles fizzled into being. The path extended itself a little further every time the Roekaar advanced, mapping a straight line directly out over the void.

And Sara collapsed.

Or would have, anyway. Reyes felt her arm slipping from his shoulders - and managed to seize her hand before it slid behind his neck. She hung there for a moment, sagging forward over the console. Reyes was losing his balance -

But Sara came to just in time. Her feet beneath her again, she straightened.

"Sorry." It was a reflex; quiet and quick. Still swaying, she tried to shake Reyes off - but he only tightened his grip on her hand.

"We're almost there," he murmured.

Blinking as if to clear a haze, she rubbed a new trickle of blood from her nose. "You can't know that."

Reyes wasn't ready to admit that she was right. Not out loud, at least. Sara couldn't outrun anything in this state, and things would only get worse if she was forced to access any more consoles. He needed this small illusion.

Just one more little lie.

Taanor led the way out over the abyss. The rest of them followed, with varying degrees of trepidation. For a time, it was like walking through a blue- and green-splashed cloud. This path wasn't flush against a wall, but Reyes could see one a little more than ten metres to their left. Ahead of them, though, and to their right, there was nothing but emptiness and diffuse light. He glanced over his shoulder, just to check that their summoned catwalk wasn't vanishing as they crossed -

Only to find Charon staring at him. The spider grinned, bloody skin stretching taut around his teeth.

Reyes avoided turning after that.

Sara didn't seem completely lucid. At times, Reyes feared she might collapse all over again - and a few minutes into their crossing, she stumbled on her bad foot. The two of them careened to the left, both trying desperately to counteract momentum. Reyes crashed to his knees, hands slamming down close enough to the edge of the tile to curl his fingers around the lip. Sara might have tumbled right over the side, but she flung both arms around Reyes' neck as they fell. She clung to him like they were two halves of a binary star - even when forward velocity took her entire torso over the edge.

One heartbeat passed. Another.

And that was when Reyes spotted it.

The Roekaar hauled them back to safety. Taanor snarled something about having them watched more closely, but Reyes didn't really hear it. Despite the trembling - his _and_ Sara's - Reyes' heart was thumping with a new timbre.

He pressed his cheek to Sara's as they started moving again. "Did you see it?"

She shook her head, wordless. Her ashen face was set in hard planes.

Reyes nodded toward the empty space beneath them; the _almost_ empty space, at any rate. Clinging to the wall below them, still no more than ten or so horizontal metres away, was the path they'd followed earlier. Their roundabout route through the tunnels had led them back to the same chasm they'd passed already - only _higher_ , and following a heading almost opposite to the one they'd taken before.

"So?"

Reyes wouldn't have thought he could whisper any more quietly, but he managed it. He breathed his answer directly into Sara's ear. "If we're getting out of here, we need a shortcut."

Her eyes widened. "We can't make that jump without jets."

"Sure we can - if we do things right." He had to swallow against a fresh thrill of anxiety before he could get the next words out. "Think you can manage a biotic pull?"

"Maybe." Sara sent him a sideways look. "Why?"

Reyes nodded toward the distant path again. "Newton's third."

Sara paled even further - but a moment later, she nodded. She opened her mouth as if to say more -

But a rumbling had started. A _loud_ rumbling.

The Roekaar raised their weapons, wheeling around as if they intended to fire on empty space. The path wasn't shaking, but Reyes could have sworn that the air was vibrating instead. That impenetrable haze around them was shifting like silt atop an earthquake; buzzing and pulsating, as if the motes of light had come to life.

Taanor rounded on Sara. "What is happening?"

"I don't know!"

Taanor was preparing to scream something else when the first pillar erupted.

One moment, it wasn't there at all; the next, a column of luminous blue-white liquid was fountaining upwards from the vastness below. It was a good fifty metres away - the length of an ancillary docking platform, at _least_ \- but even at that distance, its glow bathed Reyes' skin in heat. It speared towards the hidden ceiling, paralysing and torrential - until, finally, its source was expended. Reyes watched, open-mouthed, as the bottom of the pillar disappeared into the haze.

Silence fell. The rumbling stopped - and Sara's hand clamped down over Reyes' mouth. Dumbstruck and spluttering, he turned to find that she'd covered her own mouth, too. Her eyes were almost glassy.

And it clicked.

Eezo.

"Plasma?" Reyes mumbled through her fingers.

Sara nodded mutely, still staring at the spot where the column had disappeared. Reyes had a feeling he knew what she was thinking now.

"A one-off exposure won't kill us."

It was muffled, but she'd get the idea. She knew it already, of course - _must_ know it - but Reyes understood why she needed to hear it. He pried her fingers away from his lips, but not before planting a quick kiss against her palm. If nothing else, it seemed to bring her back to herself; she flinched, recoiling, as if she'd remembered why they were there.

As if she'd remembered what he'd done.

Two more pillars erupted as they crossed the self-constructing bridge. These two were both more distant than the first - and, as Reyes murmured into Sara's hair, probably less dangerous. Both were preceded by that same bone-deep rumbling that had heralded the arrival of the first. Reyes was just beginning to wonder what he would do if one detonated beneath them when the Roekaar in front of them came to a halt.

The bridge had stopped extending. It ended with a perfect honeycomb edge, but not before branching out from its established form to encircle a column of empty air. Reyes might have been imagining it, but the light seemed somehow denser inside the column; compact, almost, as if some invisible force was bending the scattered rays.

Almost as one, the Roekaar looked at Sara. She sighed, but she answered without prompting.

"It's another gravity well."

The Roekaar made Charon test it. Reyes gave the spider a tight smile as he was herded toward the drop - but gravity snatched Charon up as he leaned out over it, suspending him for a moment in mid-air. It pulled him downward a great deal more slowly than Reyes would have liked. Taanor went next, followed by a handful of Roekaar. Reyes insisted on descending arm-in-arm with Sara; this well was wide enough for two people to enter abreast, and he didn't want to be parted from her a moment longer than he had to be.

The fall was much less comfortable than the last. There were no walls around them - and if Reyes had been stupid enough to stick out his arm, he had a feeling he might have gone careening into the abyss. The descent felt much longer, too; so long that Reyes began to worry they might never reach the ground. The pyramids were still visible below them, but they never seemed to grow any nearer. The glittering haze was everywhere: above; below; _inside_ -

But Sara was there, too. Her fingertips were digging into his shoulder, and her wide eyes roamed the radiant void.

"Wow."

Reyes wished he could agree. A well this deep would add long minutes to the return trip.

Minutes that they didn't have.

The fall ended amongst a city of colossal pyramids. Reyes was finding it hard to estimate distance down here, but each individual structure had to be at least as tall as the Tempest was long. They rose from the cavern floor in an immaculate, organized grid, the base of each one limned by a wide moat of liquid alloy. Even from the air, it wasn't clear where the city found its end. Perhaps it didn't have one. Given what he'd seen of this place already, Reyes wouldn't have been surprised if it stretched to the edge of the universe.

Upon landing, everyone looked a little shaken.

"What now?" Taanor's expression was severe - and Reyes couldn't blame him.

The pyramids around them formed what looked like an infinite array of intersecting streets. The cool lights above did almost nothing to alleviate the darkness, and any trace of a path they might have followed was completely obscured by the gloom. Then again - it could have been totally absent, too.

For a moment, Reyes dared to hope. Taanor's people didn't seem _completely_ unreasonable, as far as Roekaar went. If there was no way to activate the vault, then maybe -

"Here," another of the angara called. He was pointing down one of the interconnecting streets.


	22. Twenty Two

Sara wondered what it was going to take. Another bullet? Another fall? Neither?

Death by door seemed like an embarrassing way to go.

She was grateful for Reyes' support. She was grateful for his warmth, too; for every time his lips brushed her cheekbone, and every time he whispered in her ear. She knew she probably shouldn't be, but the rest of the galaxy just didn't seem important anymore. He guided her around the corner the Roekaar had indicated, careful; gentle; slow - and if the universe could have given Sara one last wish, she would have wished him right away from there.

There was another door, of course. It was still a good two- or three-hundred metres away from where they stood; at the end of a passage between the pyramids. The darkness pressed down on them despite the lights above, and Sara had to wonder if she was looking at the road to hell.

It was dark enough. It was cold enough.

And she'd lost all feeling in her leg.

But she did her best to walk tall as Reyes guided her forward. She kept her head high, even when the Roekaar's pace proved too much for her. At any other time, she would have stopped to examine the pyramids. She'd glimpsed colossi just like them lurking amongst the foundations of other vaults, and they captured every ounce of her explorer's curiosity. To think that she'd finally come close enough to touch them, only for -

But then they were at the door - and at the console beside it.

It had to be the last one. It _had_ to be. Sara didn't have any hard proof of it, but the structure in front of them was even larger than the pyramids around it. The vault's rumbling seemed stronger here, too, as if the shaking of the earth originated somewhere beyond the door. Canals of liquid metal, rippling close on either side, picked up the shaking and amplified it. This was the activation chamber. Sara would bet her life on it.

And that, really, was exactly what she was doing. She was betting her life every time she touched a console.

She stretched her fingers as wide as they would go. The interface was cold, but Reyes was still clutching her other hand. He was breathing against the shell of her ear.

"You can do this," he whispered.

Sara wasn't sure that she believed him, but she pretended that she did.

It was every bit as agonizing as the last time. Fire burned its way outward from the centre of her skull, but ice shards pierced the skin beneath her nails. The world was fading into white noise. She was melting; _disintegrating_ -

But when it was over, she was still standing.

And the central chamber opened.

Radiance washed over them in waves, all bursting from a pillar of twisted light in the centre of the room. Knotted cables carried helixes of light out across the floor in all directions, like the pulsing roots of a crystalline tree. The humming built upon itself, echoing back from all sides - and to Sara, it could have been the stirring of an earthquake. Her head was spinning. The Roekaar hesitated on the threshold, glancing open-mouthed from wall to wall.

And that was when Charon lunged.

\---

At first, Sara wasn't sure what happened. Her pounding heart was pressing her frontal lobe up against the inside of her skull, but the obelisk of light still held her utterly transfixed. She held tight to Reyes' shoulder, her frayed willpower devoted entirely to breathing.

She wasn't ready when the impact bowled them over.

The collision knocked her sideways. Her injured leg didn't help; instinct told her to stagger along with momentum when she lost Reyes' support, her good leg taking the brunt -

And she didn't realize until much too late that she was careening toward an alloy moat.

It was a Roekaar that saved her. He grabbed at her as she stumbled past, snagging the back of her collar in his fist. The reversal of velocity seared fire into her throat, and Sara could have sworn it stamped stars on the inside of her eyelids - but it saved her life, too. He dragged her back from the edge of the rippling metal and dropped her on her ass.

There were black spots sliding across her vision. The lights from the activation chamber layered everything in dancing stripes; ladders that writhed and twisted as they swept out in flaring arcs. She scrambled over onto her knees - and even through the light storm, she knew exactly what she saw.

Reyes and Charon were on the floor. They were both shackled, bruised and exhausted, but they were doing their best to kill each other. Reyes looked like he had the upper hand, at least, because Charon was staggering - but a moment later, Charon's fists slammed into Reyes' jaw. The blow knocked Reyes sprawling, strobing light outlining him in white, and Sara's heart catapulted into her throat. She struggled upright, ready to leap in there -

Reyes kicked out with one foot, catching Charon in the stomach as he tried to pin him down. Charon snarled something wordless as he clawed at him; something unintelligible, but unmistakeably _hateful_ \- and it made Sara's blood run cold. Reyes didn't respond, but his ragged breathing scared her just as much.

Somewhere in the kaleidoscope chaos, Taanor scoffed. "Shoot them."

What?

Sara didn't think. She didn't have time to. She threw herself forwards, arms outstretched. The Roekaar were too widely spread for her to reliably block any bullets - but if she got close enough to the scuffle, and if the Roekaar were cautious enough -

"Wait!" Taanor _was_ cautious, it seemed. "Grab her," he muttered to the angara beside him.

The room was spinning. The lights at Sara's back threw her shadow across the floor; flickering and changing, like the universe was pulling her apart. White blurred into black, and shapes stretched out into infinity. It felt like she was standing upside down.

She couldn't fight off any Roekaar that tried to move her. She could have used her biotics, if she'd felt strong enough to draw on them - but if she wasted her last vestiges of energy, Reyes' plan to beat the purification field would be dead in the water.

Behind her, there came a fleshy _thud_ ; the sounds of scrabbling feet and muffled curses.

Then Sara remembered what she'd told Taanor already.

_Killing them is killing me._

"Hold your fire!"

Sara lunged for the liquid metal again. She halted on the tiled edge, her back to the glinting fluid. She stared Taanor down like she was waiting for a galactic collision; the way Andromeda would watch the Milky Way, one day - and humanity would watch the falling sky.

"Hold your fire," Taanor finally echoed. He stretched out his arm as if to hold his people back.

Reyes was on his hands and knees. His head was hanging, and he almost missed an incoming blow - but he swung both arms like he was sweeping a sword he didn't have, and it knocked Charon's strike aside. The follow-through sent him rolling sideways. He was gasping for air. Charon was breathing hard too, and fumbling at the floor as though he couldn't muster the energy to try again -

Until his eyes fell on Sara.

And he smiled.

Reyes cottoned on before Sara did. He heaved himself forward as Charon lurched to his feet. He caught hold of Charon's jacket, but he couldn't get his feet beneath him without letting go.

"Sara -"

Charon kicked backwards with his heel. It caught Reyes in the chin -

And he broke free. Reyes fell backwards with a muffled yell. Charon barrelled towards Sara - as if he thought she'd crumble so much sooner than Reyes himself.

As if he thought he'd already broken her.

Sara raised her fists. She planted her feet as firmly as she could. The ruined one wobbled, but she didn't feel the pain. Taanor was shouting something, but Sara neither heard it nor cared. All that mattered was the shadow coming at her through the forest of sweeping lights.

The beams were painting stars across her eyes.

And then he was on her. Charon grabbed at her with both shackled hands - but Sara slithered out of his sweaty grip. She sidestepped; pivoted; shoved -

And pushed him face first into the liquid alloy.

Charon didn't scream. Maybe he _couldn't_ scream. He convulsed, though - over and over - as the rippling metal claimed and consumed him. The fluid hissed and crackled, breaking him apart even as it pulled him under. It only took a second or two for his body to disappear completely.

Then there was silence. The vault was still humming, Sara was sure - but all the sound had bled from the world. Her face felt cold. Her hands were heavy. The black spots in her vision had returned.

She slumped backwards, and Reyes was there. He couldn't hold her - not with his wrists still bound - but he hooked his fingers under her belt and did his best to keep her upright. Sara leaned into him instinctively, staggering around in a circle two beats out of phase with his. Reyes' forehead touched hers.

He was shaking.

"You're okay," he whispered. It wasn't a question. "This isn't over."

Sara reached for him, fingers curling into his collar. He was right. They weren't out of this yet - and giving into exhaustion meant surrendering to death in this machine underworld.

"I know."

The Roekaar were gathering around them, and not a single one looked pleased. Of all of them, Taanor's expression was the most relaxed. When he spoke, though, the illusion shattered. The danger in his tone was clear.

"You are wasting our time." He gestured sharply at the light-swept chamber. "I will assume that your scuffling is over. Move."

Sara did her best to stand tall again, looping her arm back over Reyes' shoulder. She had to swallow against a rising tide of nausea. "Look - it's not too late to change your mind. We don't have to activate the vault. We can just leave."

Even the air around them seemed to harden as Taanor took a steadying breath. "Move," he said again.

But Sara had to try. "There's no guarantee that a volcanic eruption won't hurt the angara that live here. Have you thought about that?"

"Of course I have." He adjusted his grip on his rifle, the hint almost painfully clear.

"Then let's go back to the surface -"

"No."

Without warning, Taanor seized the front of Sara's shirt. He pulled her forward so that they were nose to nose - and only Reyes' grip kept her from losing her balance entirely.

" _Vesegara_ are insidious." He pronounced it precisely; with the kind of wrinkle-nosed revulsion normally reserved for tropical parasites and extinct diseases. "This may be the only angaran world that we can truly eject you from - and _any_ risk is worth that."

Sara had to fight to maintain eye contact. She could tell him about the purification field, but it was already clear that the danger wouldn't deter him - and she couldn't imagine that he would allow her or Reyes walk away once it was over. If anything, warning Taanor would only make their own escape more difficult.

"Please," she said instead. It was simple. _Earnest._

Taanor released her. "Move."

Walking into the chamber of lights was like crossing the path of a dying star. Sara squinted against the swirling radiance as she and Reyes hobbled forwards, picking their way over ropes of bundled optical fibres. Sara stumbled first, and Reyes a few moments later, but they managed to make their way to the base of the flaring pillar. This close, the humming was almost deafening; the violent dissatisfaction of a titan awoken too soon.

There was another console nestled at the base of the column. Hemmed in by the same vertical tubes that comprised the rest of structure, it seemed almost a part of the architecture. If Sara focused on just one tube at a time, she could almost count the pulses of light racing from ceiling to floor. Dancing shadows blurred through her peripheral vision as the Roekaar moved further into the chamber.

She brushed her fingertips across the console. Had her hands been shaking this violently before?

Reyes' fingers were still hooked under her belt. He used the leverage to pull her closer for a moment, as if he hoped the expression of affection might finally prompt the universe to relent. If Sara had been younger - by a few hours; a _day_ \- she might have hoped so too.

When she huddled close enough, the light seemed to cocoon them. It wrapped them in glistening ribbons, and it painted pirouettes across their skin.

No. They'd both lived a little too long for that.

"This is it, isn't it?" Reyes kept his voice low. Sara could barely hear him over the humming.

She glanced at the Roekaar. The ones that she could see seemed eager, but not nervous. They were fanning towards the far side of the chamber; peering into the serrated tunnels that were about to overflow with weaponized darkness.

"Yes."

Reyes's face was all hard edges and stormy brows. A fresh gouge in his forehead was trickling blood down his cheek. His eyes were tracking the Roekaar; mapping every movement, and filing it away.

Sara knew there was a time when they were happy. She just couldn't remember it.

"Smile for me," she whispered.

His eyes came back to her - and _damn him_ , but he tried. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. "Still okay for that biotic pull?"

"I don't know."

Sara glanced down at the console again. It was going to hurt. Of that much, she was sure. With Reyes' help, she could probably make it back to the first gravity well - but then there was the stretch of floating bridge. She was exhausted already, and she was pretty sure she'd done irreparable damage to her ankle. What kind of mass effect field would she be able to muster after that?

She steadied her breathing. "Will the eezo out there short your shields?"

"Probably."

There was still so much she needed to say. She wanted to _understand_. She wanted to hear the truth - for _once_ \- without the diversions or omissions. She wanted to know him. Wholly, and completely.

Even if she might not like what she found.

Taanor called out from the other side of the pillar. "What are you waiting for?"

There was no time. She hoped SAM had gotten the word out about the volcano.

Sara pressed her lips against Reyes' ear. "As soon as the Roekaar look around for the source of the noise - that's when we run."

 _Run_. Even the word filled her with dread.

Reyes nodded. His hand came up to grip the forearm she'd looped around his neck. He hesitated - but the pause was so brief that it could have been imagined. "Are you ready?"

Sara wondered if he'd wanted to say something else -

But there was no time.

She closed her eyes. She laid her hand flat against the interface. "Yes."

This time, the agony started slow. It began in her palm, pricking at her nerve-endings like needles. The needles extended, then, _growing_ ; digging through her hand and up into her arm to pry past the ball joint in her shoulder. She heard a whimper as the stabbing pains spread through her chest, but it took her a moment to realize that she'd made the sound herself. Hardened electricity speared up through her neck, shocking all her muscles into spasms. It was dragging icy fingers over the junction of her brainstem -

Everything went black. When the world came back again, she was slumped against the pillar. The air was full of crackling pressure, and the white light had turned red.

Reyes was shaking her. He was shouting, but she only barely heard him. "We have to go!"

It felt like Sara's lungs were full of water - but she clung to Reyes with a death grip as he hauled her towards the door. Her hearing was returning quickly, and she could hear the Roekaar calling out in shock. She stumbled over cables that could have been pulsing with blood instead of light.

And she refused to look back.

Darkness pursued them through the pyramid city. Whatever the activation console had done to Sara's brain seemed to have kick-started her deadened nerves; every impact with the floor sent spikes of pain from her ankle right up into her eyeballs. But she could feel the air pressure building as the purification field advanced. She could feel the red lights licking at her heels. The tiles beneath them were quaking, and one terrified glance upward revealed that the blue haze above them was _condensing_ ; hardening into columns that sank down into the peaks of the pyramids below.

Eezo. She wanted to hold her breath, but she was gasping for air already. Reyes was, too - but every time she stumbled, he heaved her forward. He could have moved so much faster alone.

But there was the gravity well, just down the passage to their right -

They hurled themselves into it like they were leaping from a burning building. It snatched them up immediately, launching them skyward through the clustered eezo stems.

Finally, Sara looked back.

She could see the approaching cloud. It spilled out of the activation chamber like smoke from a dragon's cave, crackling and flaring as it billowed through the pyramid array. Three of the Roekaar had decided to flee; they were hurtling down the darkened thoroughfare, lit in flickering scarlet by the energy on their heels. It was impenetrable.

Inexorable.

"It will slow down once it starts to move upwards." Reyes was breathing hard, and it sounded like he was speaking more for his benefit than hers. "There's so much space to fill."

Sara nodded. She had no idea if he was right or wrong - did purification fields give a damn about pressure gradients? - but believing it helped to muffle the thunder in her ears. For the moment, she focused on her breathing; inhaling slowly, and exhaling more slowly. She hiked her injured leg up, ignoring Reyes' startled hiss, and examined her well-used splint. She _tried_ to examine it, at any rate. Her eyes couldn't quite manage to find the right focus. She watched the fleeing Roekaar bundle into the gravity well instead.

She looked to the ceiling, then; visible now, with the eezo haze funnelling down into the pyramids. A thin strip of darkness was just barely discernible amongst the forest of glittering threads.

It was the tiled bridge. Their destination.

Long minutes passed in almost silence. Neither Sara nor Reyes found the will to speak further, but the purification field was always audible. Even if Sara fixed her gaze on the ceiling - even if she focused on Reyes' breathing, and the warmth where their bodies touched - the cloud never ceased its fractured snarling. When a scream bubbled up from below, Sara glanced down automatically.

It was a mistake. She watched in silent horror as the trio of Roekaar, helpless in the slow-moving well, flailed and writhed against a backdrop of darkness. Red sparks flared in the depths of the field. It looked hungry, somehow. _Eager._

Another scream; another desperate, wailing cry -

And the billowing clouds swallowed them whole.

Sara looked away. She turned to Reyes for reassurance, but his gaze was fixed on the bridge above them.

"Almost there."

The clouds were getting closer. By the time they reached the top of the well, their buffer zone had shrunk to almost nothing. They staggered down onto the bridge, limbs as weak and watery as strands of washed-out seaweed -

And _ran_.

It was harder, this time. At first, it was almost okay; movement was agony, but Sara had grown used to that. She kept her gaze fixed on the cavern wall, searching for the path that connected to the exit. Once she found it, the running would be over - but odd sounds soon reached her ears. It took a few moments for the suspicion to form in her mind, and it took an ominous _wobble_ for her to accept it. Her splint was finally starting to crack.

Adjusting his grip on Sara's arm, Reyes shouldered more of her weight. "Come on," he chanted breathlessly. "Come on, come _on_ …"

Finally, Sara saw it; about ten metres to their right, and a shorter distance downward. If they could make the jump to the other pathway from here, they'd find themselves scant metres from freedom. Fortunately, the streamers of eezo had fallen away. She had a clear line of sight.

But the purification field was far too close for comfort.

Reyes saw it too. He skidded to a halt, bracing her as best he could. Every muscle Sara had was trembling. She could hardly keep herself upright, much less stitch together a mass effect field.

But she didn't have a choice.

Biotic abilities were beyond Newtonian physics. Reyes avoided them like the plague, so Sara could only assume he didn't realize the third law wouldn't help them - but a biotic throw was as good as a pull.

Right?

Sara wrapped her arms around Reyes' waist. She wanted him to hold her; to cling to her; to envelop her completely, and push everything else away - but his shackles made that impossible. So she hugged him close enough to make up the difference, tucking her chin over his shoulder. Wriggling just long enough to loop his cuffs behind her head, Reyes buried his face in her hair.

"Hold on." Her voice was trembling as badly as the rest of her. "This is probably going to hurt."

Reyes only nodded.

Sara dug deep within herself. She reached down to her foundations, hunting for those last reserves of energy. Slowly; tremulously - she coaxed together a mass effect field.

And it hurled them both across the gap.

Sara had done a lot of falling in her life, but this was different. She was desperate and breathless; blinded and deaf. The biotic throw was like a cannonball impact to the small of her back. Hurtling through the empty air, she had just enough time to convince herself she'd killed them - and barely enough presence of mind to duck her head and curl her spine.

They landed hard - and _rolled_ ; once, twice, three times - until they finally shored up against the wall. Sara wasn't sure who hit the tile first, but it was definitely her that hit the rock. She didn't hear anything crack, but that could have been because she couldn't hear anything at all. The world was spinning again. Everything slid into the periphery, even when Reyes wriggled out of her grip -

"Sara!" His hand was on her shoulder. When had he managed to get to his knees? "Can you hear me?"

She tried to ask if he was okay - but her vision slid the other way, and time skipped forward again. When shape and sound came back, Reyes was hauling her to her feet.

"We're almost there."

He slung her arm over his shoulder, dragging her forwards as if escape was at their fingertips - and after a few more fractured blackouts, Sara realized that it was. The door was right in front of them.

But the crackling was louder. Red lights were flickering on the walls.

A few more steps brought them to the last console. Reyes braced them against the door as Sara fumbled for the interface. Even with Reyes' support; even with her palm pressed flat against the familiar surface -

It felt like she was still falling.

One more. Just one more. Sara squeezed her eyes shut. She put her mind through those same steps she'd followed before, bracing for the pain -

And nothing happened.

"What's wrong?"

Sara shook her head. She tried again, fingertips curling over the slender pillars.

Still nothing.

"No." Panic was crushing her windpipe. "No, no, no, no -"

"Sara?"

"It's not working!"

Maybe she'd finally pushed herself beyond exhaustion. Maybe she'd finally broken her brain, or just destroyed whatever it was she'd had left of SAM.

Sara couldn't help it. She twisted around to look over her shoulder -

The clouds were swirling over the lip of the path. Black smoke and red-streaked lightning snapped towards them.

"What's wrong with it?" Reyes sounded like he was finally beginning to panic. When Sara turned to look at him, she found him watching her in horror.

"I don't know!"

She shoved on the door, but it didn't budge. The air was hot and cold - or maybe cold and hot; molten and freezing and slicing and blunt. Her heart was climbing out of her chest, and it was taking the rest of her vascular system with it; evacuating entirely by way of her shredding lungs. The red light was everywhere.

It was all there was.

Sara gave up on standing, then. She sank down to her knees, ignoring the _crack_ as her splint finally snapped. She had always been going to make her last mistake sometime.

But why did it have to be now?

Reyes knelt beside her. Hooking his fingers in her belt again, he pulled her close against him. He kissed her cheek, then shuffled sideways - and Sara realized with horror like a lightning strike that he was trying to shield her with his body. He had to know it was hopeless -

"I'm sorry," she whispered past her welling tears. She _meant_ it, too. She'd thought that she could save him.

She really had.

But Reyes shook his head. He reached up to cup her chin with both hands. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I just got us both killed."

"I'm pretty sure there's blame on both sides of the aisle for that one."

Despite herself, Sara laughed - but she cut off when Reyes pressed his forehead against hers. His body blocked the crimson light, and Sara had to wonder if that had been the point.

"I know that you know," he murmured.

The words sucked all the air from the room.

_I know that you know._

His lips brushed hers, trembling and artless - and for a moment stretched flat across the edge of that impending darkness, everything around them seemed to stop.

"But I love you." His voice was quiet; _choked_. "Please tell me that you know that, too."

The words burned through her like a near-vacuum flame. Sara grabbed at his wrists. The look in his eyes made that pain in her chest flare hotter; brighter; _sharper_ \- and it made her heart break like cracking glass.

She didn't understand him. She never would, now.

But it didn't make her next words less true.

"I don't care who you were. Or what you did." Maybe it was impulsive - and maybe it was _wrong_ \- but the words were dredged up from the very bottom of her soul. They came from a part of her that didn't know how to lie. "And I will never stop loving you."

The purification field was almost on them. Sara could feel it plucking at her edges.

Behind her, something whirred - and Reyes' gaze darted over her shoulder. His eyes went wide. Hardly daring to hope, Sara twisted around.

 _Scott_ was there - on the other side of the now open door - his shackled hands spread across the console on his side. Liam was beside him, grinning widely. A heartbeat later, they spotted the darkness bearing down on them.

And their delight abruptly faded.

Liam leapt into action. His hands were still cuffed, but he grabbed Sara by the back of her shirt and dragged her backward through the door. Scrambling to his feet, Reyes leapt through behind them. He landed heavily, groaning -

"What are you waiting for?" Liam shouted. "Close it!"

The door slammed shut. Sara's vision was starting to swim again, and she had to brace herself with both hands on the floor - but she looked up just in time to spot the single smoky tendril that had made it through the door. It drifted harmlessly towards the ceiling, crumbling like ashes on a breeze.

A beat passed, and Sara hardly dared to breathe. She stared at the point where the tendril had vanished -

And threw herself onto her back. "Holy shit." She said it to the air over her head, because she wasn't sure that she could handle anything else. "Holy _shit_."

"Hey there, sis." Scott had laughter in his voice. "Are you two okay? You look like you fell off a cliff without your jump jets."

Sara shook her head. Her eyes didn't seem to work the way they used to. She couldn't _blink_ -

Wait.

She turned her head to look at him. "How did you do that?"

Scott waggled his fingers at her as if to indicate his cuffs. "Do what?"

"How did you open the door?"

"Oh." His grin widened. "Should I tell her, or should you?"

"What?"

SAM's voice came through Scott's omni-tool, and Sara's heart could have beat against the ceiling. "Hello, Sara."


	23. Twenty Three

Reyes had always hated low-atmo jumps. Lying there on the floor, with his limbs tingling and his heart pounding somewhere up behind his adam's apple, it felt just like he'd fallen out of the sky. Clothing rustled somewhere to his left, and Sara bolted upright. Compared to all the impossible things Reyes had seen today, their sudden rescue seemed almost unsurprising. He'd tell himself that, at any rate - just until his heart rate dropped.

Shit. He'd never come quite that close to death before. Even when the Nexus slammed into the Scourge; even when _he_ almost slammed into Charon's eezo cache -

"But SAM…" Reyes was too exhausted to look for her, but Sara sounded more than a little dazed. "If you're here, then Cora -"

"Dr. T'Perro has completed what she described as the 'dangerous part' of the Pathfinder's surgery," SAM replied. "She deemed it safe for me to transfer my cooperative functions to Scott."

"So she's okay?"

"She's fine," Liam said from somewhere over on Sara's other side. "Or, she will be. Thanks for _lying_ to us, by the way. You gonna tell Sara about your heroics, SAM?"

"I am not certain what you are referring to," the AI said.

Reyes would have thought SAM was being smug, but he couldn't make up his mind. Either the AI was exceptionally good at pretending to have emotions, or he was exceptionally good at pretending _not_ to have them.

Scott laughed - a little evilly, in Reyes' opinion. When Reyes finally mustered the will to look at him, he found Scott smiling widely.

Understandable, really. Maybe Reyes should have been laughing as well.

He was alive. Sara was, too. Reyes checked himself over, just to be sure. His skin felt rubbery and cold, like his fingertips were coated in gel - so maybe his good health was an illusion. But he was definitely breathing. He could feel every expansion of his lungs like it was a new and strange sensation, and the rasp of air through his throat sounded somehow triumphant. They were _alive._

And Charon wasn't.

"SAM picked up our omni-tool signals from the top of the well, and he went ahead with the transfer from all the way over on the Tempest," Scott explained. "Didn't even ask me! And he did it _through_ all that eezo interference - which, by the way, was out of this world insane. What did you break down there?"

"One thing at a time, please." Sara was rubbing her temples. Washed out by the blue-green lights, she looked like she was one good scare away from dropping dead.

"Right. Anyway, SAM will downplay it - but it was a pretty big deal."

"Thank you, SAM. All of you." Sara's voice was shaking, but they all pretended that it wasn't. "What happened with the eruption? We activated the vault, and then…" She shrugged helplessly. "Everything went to shit."

That was an understatement. Reyes would never feel the same way about Tartarus' red lights again. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel his ears popping; still feel the weight of a dead galaxy closing in -

_I don't care who you were._

She'd meant it, too. Reyes could spot a liar from half a lightyear out, and Sara wasn't one, even if she'd made a few good stabs at it recently. She _was_ stubborn, though; bullish, even, when she got her teeth into something. If she set herself a course, she'd stick with it until it killed her - and it had already come pretty damn close.

Reyes hadn't dared to hope she'd say it, but -

_I don't care who you were._

He'd thought it would be a relief, but it felt like there was a planet sitting on his ribcage.

The others were still talking. "Not really sure," Liam was saying to Sara. "But there was dust _everywhere_ -"

"Yeah," Scott broke in. "And the ground was shaking, and -"

"It seems that activating the vault precipitated a localized earthquake," SAM said over all of them. "The Initiative personnel in closest proximity to the volcano have reported eruptions of what they suspect to be element zero plasma. By all accounts, the stronghold situated on the peak has been destroyed. Resistance forces have advised that the nearby angaran villages do not appear to have suffered any lasting damage."

Sara breathed a wobbly sigh. Reyes flinched when her hand closed around his.

"Good," she said. "And the fighting - what's happening with that? If the Resistance are talking to us -"

Scott's smile faded. "Maybe it's time you just chilled for a while, huh?"

"Scott -"

"No, I'm serious. Look at yourself!"

"I've taken a bit of a beating, but -"

Liam laughed. Even he sounded perturbed. "He's not wrong, Sara. You look like hell."

"Damn right." Scott was glaring at her, now. There was an intensity behind it that Reyes recognized immediately - because he'd felt it often enough himself. "Don't _ever_ try to pull that self-sacrificing shit again."

Sara just sighed. She covered her face with her other hand. Reyes could tell she wanted to argue, but -

"Okay."

"Good." Scott sounded a little discombobulated, and Reyes couldn't blame him. Sara had probably never agreed to something that easily before. "Great. SAM, how's that shuttle looking?"

"It is en route, Scott. The pilot estimates arrival in just over ten minutes."

The noose around Reyes' neck tightened a little further. Scott and Liam seemed ready to overlook him for the moment, but that couldn't last. Even if the Tempest's crew could somehow be convinced to keep Reyes' sins quiet, there was no wriggling out of a SAM log.

"We should get moving," Scott was saying. He looked down at his shackles. "Anyone got any bright ideas?"

Reyes didn't want to draw attention to himself, but he _did_ want to regain the full use of his hands. "Did the Roekaar take your omni-blades, Kosta?"

"No." Liam twisted his wrists back and forth, frowning at them from every angle. "Can't activate them like this, though."

Sara twisted around to reach for him. "I can."

Liam offered her his hands, and Sara found the buttons on the inside of his wrists. When the blades flared to life, his face lit up. His cuffs fell away a moment later, severed by the manifesting edges.

"That's more like it!" He freed Scott next, grinning at his obvious discomfort - but when he turned to Reyes, he hesitated.

Liam glanced at Scott. Scott side-eyed Sara. Sara looked at Reyes, and Reyes wondered if she felt as sick at heart as he did.

"Go ahead, Liam."

Reyes muttered his thanks when his shackles finally clattered to the floor, but Liam didn't meet his eyes. He wondered how long it would be before they tried to cuff him again. No matter what Sara said - no matter what she did, and no matter what she _felt_ \- she couldn't force the crew to agree with her. It was Reyes' fault, really.

He'd let Charon get the best of him.

"Hey." Sara tugged on her brother's sleeve. "We going to meet that shuttle, or what?"

"Yeah…" Scott gave her ankle a pointed look. "You aren't walking, though."

Scott and Liam carried her back to the gravity well. Reyes stayed behind them; close enough to hear Sara hiss whenever Scott or Liam stumbled, and to hear Scott scoffing at her grumbling - but far enough away to put himself on the periphery. He maintained his distance once they reached the surface. The battle in the atmosphere had fallen silent, or possibly ceased entirely. In between the streamers of Scourge cloud above, Reyes thought the sky looked a little bluer than usual. It might have been because he'd never expected to see it again, or it might have been caused by the recent eezo injection. Either way, it was a mystery for another time.

"Landing site, SAM?" Scott sounded more than a little out of breath. "When did you get so heavy, Sara?"

"Fuck you," Sara said - but there was laughter in her voice.

"Proceed for another one hundred metres, Scott. The shuttle will meet you there."

Reyes slowed, calling up his omni-tool interface. To his distinct lack of surprise, he still couldn't get an out-of-system connection, but he could work around that. Charon had been waiting for them when they disembarked the Tempest, and that narrowed things down.

Reyes' search would have a radius - but only a relatively small one.

When Reyes looked up, Scott and Liam were still staggering along with their burden. Slowing even further, he let the distance between them stretch. Sara laughed at something Scott said -

And the sound almost pulled Reyes' soul loose from his body. His lungs felt gauzy, somehow, as if every humid breath was tugging fibres out of place.

Sara had already lost so much - _given_ so much, really. Her job. Her home. SAM. A good deal of her freedom, too, and the legacy of the father she resented and revered. She had never blamed Reyes for any of it, but he knew he wasn't blameless. He remembered very clearly how he'd urged her to give up her title; how he'd pressed her to stay on Kadara, all lonely love and coaxing. _Stay with me_ , he'd insisted. _They don't need you._

_Not like I do._

Every time Reyes lost her, it tore off another piece of him. When it was quiet, he could feel the hollows left behind. There was one for Draullir, and one for Remav. There was one for the endless hours following the shuttle crash.

He wouldn't survive losing her again - and it _would_ happen again, even if adrenaline and impending doom had her deny it in the vault. The lying would make her bitter. The pressure would exhaust her. The fear of discovery, frigid and unrelenting -

It would make her hate him.

But if _he_ ended it - if he pushed her away, instead -

He might survive a clean break.

Reyes was sure he was going to hurt for this later, but it was better than the alternative. It was better than wondering when resentment would finally get the best of her.

And it was better than watching her fall out of love.

It wasn't hard to give them the slip, really. Sara was exhausted enough to overlook an eiroch, Scott was flying high on their victory, and Liam was more focused on them than on anything happening around him. It was a simple matter of stepping off the path; slow and quiet, at first - and sprinting off into the trees.

In the beginning, it even felt okay. His lungs kept pumping, and his tired legs kept working. His heart kept right on beating, and the sun held its place in the sky. But it didn't take long for Sara to realize he was gone.

Ignoring her shouts was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

It took him about an hour to find Charon's shuttle. He couldn't be certain that it was Charon's, of course; it was a standard Initiative vehicle, with no distinguishing features apparent from the exterior - but it didn't particularly matter. The flight controls were bound to be locked, and Reyes didn't have the time to waste on forcing his way through the algorithmic security. He did have time to hack the much simpler lock on the door, though, and the outgoing comms system was protected by the same quick-access code the Initiative had been using for months. A shuttle comm system would have a much higher transmission power than his omni-tool.

_To: Keema Dohrgun_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_I need a pickup. I'm sure you've heard about the Initiative's newest conflict. Do we have anyone embedded?_

_\--_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_It's lovely to finally hear from you! I'll save all my questions for later. I have people in the area - just send me a location._

_\--_

It was a long wait. It could have only been about fifteen minutes in real terms, but every moment of stillness was harder to endure than the one that came before it. The vehicle interior was identical to every other Initiative shuttle Reyes had ever seen, but it still managed to remind him of Charon - and _that_ made him think about Sara.

She'd already tried his omni-tool a dozen times. Reyes had blocked her frequency just to stop the buzzing. He knew he should respond - if only to tell her that _yes_ , he really was leaving of his own accord - but he couldn't see a future in which Sara took that at face value. She'd dig. She'd needle. She'd insist that he talk to her.

And Reyes couldn't do that.

He just wished his last words to her were _better_. He wanted her to remember him that way, even if only subconsciously. He wanted her anger tinged with wistfulness; her sadness cleaved to joy -

Because _I love you_ never really summed it up.

So he brooded, instead. He mulled over new plans, and he contemplated contingencies. There was no telling exactly how the Initiative might respond to what they learned from SAM's logs. They might sever economic ties - an overreaction, by Reyes' estimate, but not one he could rule out. They might come for Reyes directly. They might demand the Charlatan _extradite_ him, or something equally ridiculous - presuming they didn't also learn who the Charlatan really was. They might just keep their findings to themselves until it could be used to their advantage. Reyes would need to account for all of it.

He would have given his left arm for a weapon when another Initiative shuttle touched down a short distance away, but the pair of turians on board turned out to be Keema's pickup. He accepted the ride home, but he made a point of insisting that he be the one to pilot them through the Scourge.

He'd always preferred to rely on himself. ~~~~


	24. Twenty Four

To describe the weeks that followed as eventful would have been a staggering understatement. Reyes didn't find a lot of time for sleeping, which meant that he didn't find a lot of time for brooding, either. The newly discovered world - dubbed _Pas-67_ in the first Resistance reports, then _Bosora_ at the request of the locals - brought turmoil to Heleus' political and economic landscapes. Fifteen days after Reyes' return to Kadara, things were finally beginning to settle.

To Reyes' relief - and not inconsiderable shock - neither Tann nor Evfra had started a war over Bosora's eezo supplies. All the fighting in the planet's lower atmosphere, Keema informed him with relish, had been instigated by the arrival of a sizeable contingent of Roekaar die-hards. Following the minor disaster in the Vaalon system, both the Initiative and the Resistance treated the prospect of conflict very seriously - although both leaders refused to remove their forces from Bosora without certain assurances from their counterpart. It was agreed that discussions of the planet's element zero would involve all interested parties.

Once the Roekaar were repelled, and the last of Charon's forces defeated, diplomatic talks began. The local angara were represented by a Governor Par Ornan. Evfra accepted that Paaran Shie was a more talented diplomat than he, and Tann agreed to allow Addison to bear the Initiative's flag - although Reyes' agents reported that that final concession required a degree of encouragement.

At first, Reyes was sure the local angara were doomed to be taken for a ride, but the activation of Bosora's vault pushed the planet's atmospheric eezo concentrations from dangerous to catastrophic. Its native organisms, including the local angara themselves, displayed a resistance to the effects of eezo exposure that mystified the author of every report Reyes picked up. Equally puzzling was the Remnant's total lack of hostility towards them.

Neither the Resistance nor the Initiative had the means to establish resource recovery operations in such conditions - traditional eezo mining equipment wasn't designed for rainforests, after all - and neither group was eager to risk a war over a world with poisonous air. Trade agreements were established, ambassadors were appointed, and promises were made on all sides. Reyes had a feeling that no one in Heleus would want for element zero again.

He wasn't quite so confident in the benefits to Bosora's population, but new tech and training would be a boon in the short term.

Charon's people had been removed, at least. It seemed that most of them had died in the eezo eruption, but the Resistance had picked up a few as they tried to flee failed assaults on local villages. They all claimed to be Collective - even the ones without uniforms - and if Reyes hadn't known about the frame-up already, their lies might have caused him major problems. As it was, he stomped out the fires as they flared. His contacts in the Resistance made sure they didn't spread.

Closer to home, things were strangely quiet. The Initiative had yet to react to Reyes' logged confession. He'd considered the possibility that the Nexus leadership were preoccupied with the Bosora negotiations - they were, after all, limited by the brain cells available to bend to that task - but two weeks was a long time. There were no arrest warrants; no midnight raids - not even any N-Sec plainclothes trying to pass as pirates at Kralla's.

The silence was getting under Reyes' skin. His agents embedded within the Initiative were watching, of course; checking correspondence and perusing files - but there was _nothing_. Either his undercover operatives weren't as good as he thought they were -

Or the records were moving at a level they didn't have access to. That level could only be the Nexus leadership itself, isolated from all subordinates. But they couldn't be handling it purely by themselves; Kandros was the only one among them with any field experience to speak of, and Reyes couldn't imagine he'd be foolish enough to go it alone. That only left the Pathfinder teams.

Cora Harper was still the human Pathfinder, as far as Reyes knew. Nothing public was being said about her team at all, but Reyes' people told him Cora was in recovery in Meridian. He was pleased that she was still alive, if a little frustrated with himself for feeling that way. She had, after all, played a significant role in ruining him.

 _Possibly_ ruining him. He was prepared for repercussions from the Initiative itself, but -

But he didn't want to think about Sara.

Reyes still had her frequency blocked, although there were times during the darkest nights he'd come too close to crumbling. Avoiding her wasn't that simple, of course; she'd already tried asking Keema to contact him for her, and he'd been forced to duck out of Tartarus on more than one occasion when Kian spotted one of Sara's friends. The first time, it was Peebee. The second, Vetra. If she ever sent Drack after him, Reyes might seriously consider relocating his office.

And _shit_ \- he knew it was cowardly. He knew it was pathetic. Keema had said it herself, though perhaps not quite as bluntly, and Kian didn't have to say it at all.

But he couldn't talk to her. She'd want to discuss it. She'd ask him to explain things better left dead and buried - and once he'd dragged his soul over the coals, none of it would matter anyway. Reyes had already followed those threads through to their ends.

And the end was always the same. Wouldn't it be easier on both of them if they skipped the in-between?

He missed her, though. So much that he sometimes wondered if it would turn him inside out.

\---

Sara still woke up expecting birdsong.

It was a stupid impulse, but it was one she couldn't shake. The Jaardan had built Meridian to be a paradise, but their definition of paradise apparently didn't include birds. There was just something about the way the light glanced off the floors in Scott's apartment; something that made the polished hardwood gleam and Sara's heart ache. For birdsong. For home, even if she couldn't decide where home was anymore. For the ability to walk without watching her feet, and the chance to see the sky from the other side.

For Reyes.

And it was at that point in Sara's morning routine that the light always turned a little dimmer. A sickness gathered in her chest, forgotten while she slept. It hovered too low beneath her lungs for her to really call it anger, but it was as hot and acid-biting as any she'd felt before. Despite herself, she fumbled around on the floor until she found her omni-tool.

Nothing.

Sara sat up, groaning long and low as she stretched toward the ceiling. Scott's couch was comfortable, as couches went, but sleeping on it always left her shoulders feeling stiff. Still, the sight of his empty living room helped to quell some of her queasiness. Tall windows, natural light; the place could have been transplanted from a daydream. The ceilings were high enough for her to forget that they were there, and the furniture was just low enough to suit her. It left her feeling like she still had room to pull her parachute.

Carefully, Sara swung both feet down to the floor. This time, she didn't wince. She gave her toes an experimental wriggle -

It was still a lot harder than it should have been.

"Morning."

"Jesus!" Sara clutched at her chest for a moment, wondering if her heart was going to leap out from between her ribs. Scott was sitting at the kitchen table across the way, grinning at her over the rim of his coffee mug. "I _hate_ open plan living, Scott."

He just hoisted his mug a little higher. "Want one?"

"Please." Sara rubbed at her eyes as he plodded over to the coffee machine. "What time is it?"

"About eleven. Think I should make one for Cora?"

"I don't think she's allowed to have caffeine."

"Hm. Good point." Scott tilted his head a little to the left, the way he always did when he was talking to SAM. It still gave Sara goose bumps. "What do you think?"

"I would not advise it," SAM replied from one of the wall speakers. "However, she is likely to appreciate a hot chocolate."

Sara looked away. Hoping to occupy herself, she started working through her physical therapy exercises. Ankle rotations: first one way, and then the other; ankle flexes; toe wriggling -

She lost her patience less than a minute in. Promising herself that she would finish them later, she strapped on her polymer ankle brace. "Where is Cora, anyway?"

There was no point in asking if she was awake. Sara had yet to see a morning before Cora did.

"Out on the porch. I'll bring them out in a minute."

Sara threw a thank you over her shoulder as she scooted out the back door. She slipped a little on the threshold, biting back a truly filthy curse when her ankle twinged in response, but she thought she recovered herself well. Emerging into the leafy garden was every bit as bracing as she hoped it would be.

But she still found herself waiting for birdsong.

Cora was curled up on one of Scott's porch chairs, buried beneath a fluffy grey throw. She was still looking paler than she should, and her wrists remained unnaturally thin, but she smiled at Sara as if the sun was housed inside her. Maybe it was all the plants. Scott's garden didn't have any flowers, but it certainly didn't lack for greenery.

"I saw that," Cora said, raising one eyebrow and nodding at Sara's foot. "You do realize that Lexi is going to skin you if you break it again, right?"

Sara made a good attempt at a laugh as she claimed the other porch chair. It was white, wooden, and so delightfully _normal_ that it almost brought tears to Sara's eyes. "My plan is to hide. You wouldn't betray me, right?"

"Hmm. Maybe." Cora leaned back, her eyelids fluttering shut. She breathed so purposefully, now. It was almost as if she was grateful for the air. "Last time she was here, she told me that you're lucky to have any feeling in that foot at all."

"Lucky is a relative term."

Healthy was, too. By all accounts, Cora was recovering well. Lexi's visits had become less frequent, now that the danger of infection or complication had dwindled, and her most recent report on Cora's progress had read like a paid-for endorsement. She had even suggested that SAM could safely transfer back to Cora soon. Her comments on Sara were less glowing, but Sara already knew she was a bad patient.

When Sara had been shot, her complaining had almost worn holes in the Tempest's hull, but Cora seemed almost happy. Eyes open or eyes shut; sitting or standing; smiling or frowning - she just seemed so utterly _relaxed_. She could have been an advertisement for asari meditation.

Sara couldn't say the same for herself. She wasn't jittery or jumpy - and when Scott barged out onto the porch, praising his own barista skills loudly enough to startle those absent birds from the trees, Sara didn't even flinch. But she was moving through the world the way a shadow moves through darkness.

Lexi had grounded her. Sara might have disobeyed doctor's orders and headed for Kadara anyway, but Scott was watching her like a hawk. He'd stopped her from gate-crashing the Bosora diplomatic talks, too - which, Sara would readily admit now that some time had passed, she had no business involving herself in anyway. Peebee and Vetra had come up with nothing on their respective trips to Tartarus, Keema was stonewalling her, and Reyes still wasn't taking her calls.

She didn't understand.

This was the point in Sara's morning routine at which that acrid ache in her chest turned _hard_.

What did she do wrong? What had Reyes wanted her to say? If unconditional acceptance wasn't good enough, what could he expect her to -

"Sara?"

"Sorry." Sara gave herself a shake, and accepted the mug Scott was waving in her face. She didn't waste time hugging it to her chest like Cora did hers; she gulped it down like it might burn away the bubble in her throat.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

It had become her mantra in recent weeks. She sang the chorus every time Scott looked at her too closely, and chanted it at the top of her lungs whenever Cora's gaze turned pitying. They never talked about what happened with Reyes - but they were trying to do it without words.

And Sara couldn't stand it.

_I'm fine._

She said it to herself, too. It was silent, usually; somewhere between a whisper and an expelled breath. Whatever meaning it had in the beginning was lost in the plodding rhythm of repetition.

_I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine._

The best part was that it was true. She thought it was, at any rate, because that weight in her chest stopped her from feeling much of anything.

Cora was frowning. She sat a little straighter in her chair, lifting her feet up onto the seat with her. The movement pulled the throw rug loose from her shoulders, and Sara caught a fleeting glimpse of hardened medi-gel beneath her tank top. Cora quickly tucked the fabric back into place. She took a deep breath before speaking - almost as if she was steeling herself for something.

"Tann called me last night."

Scott didn't miss a beat. "I didn't think he was the type." He elbowed Sara in the arm, already giggling at his own joke.

Cora raised her eyes to heaven. "This is serious."

"Oh yeah?"

"He said it's time for me to take SAM back."

Sara tried not to react. _God_ , she tried - but her face gave her away.

_I'm fine._

"Okay." Scott's hand went to Sara's shoulder. She didn't try to move it. "Uh - I'll call Lexi, then. SAM, do you -"

"I refused." Cora's eyes were on Sara. Sara might have been projecting - but it looked like her breathing was a little harder, now. "You didn't betray anyone, and we all know it. Tann shouldn't get to punish you just because he doesn't like you."

Sara tried to smile, but her lips were too thin and papery; too withered by the knowledge SAM was never coming back. "And I thought that he and I were getting along so well."

"Sara -"

"I punched a hole in his desk, Cora. And I threatened to throw Kandros through a wall."

"I'm sure you had your reasons," Cora managed. Scott chuckled under his breath, his fingers digging into Sara's shoulder. "And honestly? There are times I've wanted to do both of those things myself."

Sara could feel her lower lip trembling. She was clutching her coffee cup so tightly that she worried it might break. She didn't want to hope; didn't want to _feel_ -

"What did Tann say?"

"At first? Nothing." Cora grinned, then, and Sara's heart climbed so high that it hurt. "Then I told him I'd go to Keri T'Vessa if he didn't reinstate you. Turns out he's _terrified_ of reporters."

Sara didn't know what to say. She'd forgotten how to breathe.

"I don't…" She was hoping one of them might jump in and steer the conversation for her, but it appeared her hopes were misplaced. "Seriously?"

Scott squeezed her shoulder again. "People would believe her, Sara. Tann's already unpopular, and if he loses another human Pathfinder…" Scott dragged one finger across his throat, his meaning abundantly clear. "He'll be out on his ass for sure."

"That's not enough." Sara's hands were unsteady now, and she hurried to place her coffee down beside her chair. When she continued, her voice cracked. "If he was worried about the media coverage, he wouldn't have fired me in the first place."

Cora hesitated. Scott's grip on Sara's shoulder tightened even further.

Sara knew what she was holding back. "You told him about Reyes."

Cora hurried to deny it. "I told him what we learned about Charon's plan to frame the Collective - but I didn't bring Reyes into it."

"What? Why?"

Sara couldn't believe her ears. There was something to be said for loyalty, but this was _Cora Harper_. Her loyalty was to her duty - and not to Sara's boyfriend.

If she could still call him that.

"Because I've already done my share of overreacting," Cora muttered. "And I don't trust Tann not to blow everything to hell over an accusation. _Again_." Her fingers tapped a thoughtful rhythm on her mug. "I don't think you do, either. So, in my opinion… the decision falls to you. As Pathfinder."

And Sara's resistance gave way.

It was only at the very last second that she stopped herself from throwing her arms around Cora's shoulders. She threw herself onto the floor instead, hugging Cora's legs to her chest. The unvarnished wood scraped her knees, but Sara barely even noticed. Cora's fingers came down to card gently through her hair - and it was then that Sara's tears spilled over.

"Are you sure?" She couldn't look at Cora. She couldn't bear to see her _think_ about it -

"Yes." Cora's voice was steady. Firm. "You're the Pathfinder, Sara. I'm your second, and I've got your back."

"What do I do now?"

"Well, you should probably talk to Tann yourself -"

"Sara?"

That was SAM. Sara reached out behind her, fumbling for something unidentifiable. With a long-suffering sigh, Scott placed his wrist in her grip. When SAM spoke again, she felt Scott's omni-tool flare to life around her fingers.

"I have a confession to make."

Sara frowned into Cora's knees. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I must also address this confession to you, Lieutenant Harper." SAM paused, as if he was hoping for acknowledgement.

Sara straightened. "Wait."

If Cora had the option of keeping Reyes' confession from Tann, then -

"You still haven't submitted your logs from Bosora, have you?"

"No," SAM answered - immediately, and without a hint of shame. "I have, in fact, deleted them."

 _"What?"_ Sara turned too quickly. Her knee connected with the coffee mug she'd left on the floor, and she found herself kneeling in a puddle of liquid that was still too hot for comfort. "Without Cora's permission?"

"That is correct."

"I didn't think you could do that!"

It was a moment before SAM responded. "It appears we are all learning new things."

In the end, Sara's talk with Director Tann was much less onerous than she'd expected it to be. Cora's earlier conversation with him - or, more likely, the tone in which she'd conducted it - seemed to have quashed any desire he might have had for a battle of wills. Sara's reinstatement as Pathfinder didn't even require her to return to the Nexus. Tann approved Cora's resignation via vid-call, and formalized Sara's reinstatement with his very next breath. Reluctance was written all over him, but Sara didn't give a damn.

He had a first assignment for her: a laundry list of Scourge anomalies marked for further exploration. It stood to reason, he claimed, that if the Scourge had hidden both Aya and Bosora, it could be hiding other systems too. Sara did her best to be professional; to listen with interest, and to smooth over the misgivings Tann was undoubtedly harbouring - but she wasn't living in the moment.

Her mind was on what must come next.

When it was over, a stillness settled over them. Scott's living room was aglow in the late afternoon sun.

"Are you ready, Pathfinder?"

With a wall speaker right next to Sara's ear, it sounded just like SAM was talking in her head again. Her heart was racing. "I think so."

Cora offered her a smile, and Sara felt a brief pang of guilt - but it dissipated just as quickly as it had formed. Sara wasn't stealing anything. She wasn't doing Cora any harm.

"I recommend that both you and Scott remain seated for the duration of the transfer. I do not anticipate any serious side effects, but it is possible that you may experience some nausea and light-headedness."

Sara couldn't have said what she expected it to feel like. Shoving her blankets aside, she and Scott sat down together on the couch. Scott was clearly a little nervous; he clutched her hand in both of his, and he grinned just a little too widely. Hovering by the windows with her hands clasped in front of her, Cora could have been accused of anxiety too.

"Bye, SAM," Scott said cheerily. "It may be too late to ask - but you don't _share_ what goes on in people's heads, do you?"

"Is this a question I should answer on our private channel?"

Sara pulled a face. "You two are ruining this for me."

Scott just laughed. "All right. It's been fun, SAM."

For a time, everything was silent. Sara wasn't sure how long the transfer would take. She had razor-sharp memories of how much the transfer on Habitat 7 had hurt, and duller recollections of the transfers that came after - but she couldn't quite decide how to feel. Her memories were of brighter lights. Pale ones.

Here, though, the sunlight was golden. It was warm on Sara's face, gentle on her eyes - and she could see dust motes dancing in the beams. There was no pain. No discomfort.

Maybe it was because she was relaxed. She was holding her breath, though -

And then he was _there_. The world was silent, and then it…

Wasn't.

"Hello, Pathfinder." This time, he really was speaking from inside her head.

Sara was choking up again - but she had already done enough crying. "Hi, SAM."

They dispersed, then. Scott and Cora seemed to recognize that Sara needed some time to herself. After a brief stop by the coffee machine, they made their way back out into the garden.

Once they were gone, a strange sort of peace settled over everything. The room felt warmer than it had before.

"Pathfinder?"

"Yes, SAM?"

Sara knew she was using his name unnecessarily, but she just couldn't help herself. She flopped over onto her side, wriggling around until she could drape one arm over the edge of the couch. Lying like this, her fingertips just brushed the floor.

It was almost enough to prove that this was real.

"While I hesitate to resume our relationship with scolding, I must comment on your neglect of your health."

Sara smiled at the nearest window, and at the world out there beyond it. SAM could scold her all he wanted. "I don't know what you mean."

"You appear to have formed a venous clot in your lower leg, presumably due to your lack of movement in recent weeks."

"Shit." For a moment, Sara didn't know what to say. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I will notify Dr. T'Perro that you require anticoagulant medication."

"Okay."

Had she been this stilted with him before? Sara didn't remember it being this hard.

"Venous blood clots are quite common in humans during periods of convalescence, particularly where it comes to patients for whom walking is difficult. Unlike arteries, veins in the legs largely rely on muscle contraction -"

"I did study some biology, SAM. You don't need to explain."

He paused. "Are you all right, Sara?"

"You just pointed out that I'm not."

"I was not referring to your physical condition."

Sara should have expected that. "I'm fine," she croaked. She didn't sound terribly convincing, and she knew SAM wouldn't be deterred. "But you want to talk about Reyes."

"Scott suggested that Mr. Vidal may be on your mind."

"Of course he did." Sara fumbled around until she found one of her blankets on the floor, then pulled it up to stuff beneath her chin. "All right. Let's talk. Why did you delete those logs from Bosora?"

For a brief and bizarre moment, she wondered if she needed to specify further. _You know. The one where Reyes confesses to murder._

"Alec Ryder believed it was important that I possess control over the creation and distribution of my own audio-visual recordings. It was his fear that, without that capability, I would be unable to function as a true partner to the Pathfinder."

"Why?"

"It would, as he put it, 'turn me into big brother'."

Sara snorted. "Sounds like dad. But that's not what I asked."

"Prior to our separation, I was able to form an understanding of your emotional state through analysis of hormone and neurotransmitter interactions in your body."

"So what?"

"To fully understand my decision, you will require a similar understanding of the context in which it was made."

Sara jammed her face into the blanket - and used it to muffle a scream of frustration. "Okay," she said when she came up for air.

"Our last discussion of my logs from Bosora occurred in the moments before your descent into the planet's vault. Our conversation was conducted via audio connection only. Of all the social signals used to express emotion, I find auditory ones the most difficult to interpret."

"You're saying you couldn't tell what I was thinking?"

"That is correct."

"I don’t care." Sara hadn't planned on being short with him - this was a _reunion_ , after all, and she knew better than anyone that reunions were meant to be cherished. But she couldn't help herself. "I told you to ask Cora what to do with the logs - and I was pretty damn clear about it, too. There wasn't any room for confusion."

SAM didn't immediately reply. For a moment, Sara wondered if she'd offended him; if she'd pushed him far enough to push him away, just like she'd apparently pushed Reyes -

"I did not experience confusion," SAM said. "I understand the concept of confusion quite well, given the often perplexing nature of human interactions. Rather, I experienced uncertainty. While you did indeed instruct me to consult with Lieutenant Harper, I did not believe that to be your underlying intention."

"What?"

"I believed you wished to avoid responsibility for the decision."

Sara sat up bolt upright. This was _not_ how this was supposed to go.

"No, I didn't!"

"The conclusion was inescapable. Presented with a clear choice between your own benefit and Mr. Vidal's, you elected to choose neither."

"It wasn't my call to make!"

"It is for that reason that I requested advice instead of orders, Pathfinder. Once our conversation had concluded, I made the decision to honour what could have proven to be your final request."

Sara couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Request? I didn't _ask_ you to cover up what Reyes did!"

And there it was. It was in her throat, suffocating and thick. It was everywhere.

And she couldn't get away from it.

"I am aware," SAM was saying. "Either way, the responsibility does not lie with you. In that sense, I did indeed honour your request."

Sara covered her face with her hands. They were shaking again.

Why was she always shaking? Why couldn't she deal with this? Why was she so _fucking_ -

"Why did he do it, SAM?"

"Without additional data, I can only speculate. However, you may find it comforting to know that my motivations were not limited to a desire to protect Mr. Vidal. Given the current political tensions within the Heleus cluster, additional antagonism between the Initiative and Collective is likely to lead to disastrous consequences. I value your judgment, and that of Lieutenant Harper, considerably more than that of Director Tann."

At any other time, Sara might have found that last part funny. "Not limited to?"

"I do not understand your question."

"If your reasons weren't _limited_ to protecting Reyes, then part of you did do it for that reason."

"That is a rational conclusion."

"You're an AI! Why would you want to protect him? And don't give me that crap about functioning halves."

Sara didn't know what she'd do if SAM told her it was to spare her feelings. She could throw herself on the floor, maybe. Writhe around. Scream.

Would that make her feel better?

"It has been some time since I last experienced the world with you," SAM replied. "But I am not capable of forgetting it. Is that not sufficient reason?"

Damn it. Sara screwed her eyes shut, grinding the heels of her palms against them - but it didn't help. "You feel it too?"

"Yes."

"I miss him so much, SAM."

"I now have extensive experience with what it feels like to miss someone. I am sorry."

Sara took a deep breath. It rattled against her teeth like drawing pins. "What do you think I should do?"

"A logical first step would be to take some of Lieutenant Harper's blood thinners. Dr. T'Perro has already asked me to advise that she will deliver an individual supply tomorrow."

Sara laughed - helplessly. "This is our reunion! And you were spending it with Lexi?"

"My processing power -"

"Is more than enough for everyone. I know." When Sara finally pulled her hands away from her eyes, she found the world briefly gleaming purple-blue; both brighter and somehow dimmer than before. "But if I'm the Pathfinder again, I have a responsibility to…"

She couldn't finish. She raked a hand back through her hair, hoping to cover the slip.

No dice. "To what, Pathfinder?"

"To bring him in." She snarled it from between clenched teeth. "He murdered someone. He confessed to it _._ There's no way around that."

"I have little experience with judicial matters. Without additional data, I cannot say with an acceptable degree of certainty whether Mr. Vidal's punishment should include a period of incarceration. Nor can I suggest how long such a period might be. I must also remind you that the political situation in Heleus remains tenuous."

"So what's your advice?"

"I have devoted a great deal of processing time to this matter, Pathfinder. My conclusion is that a responsibility does indeed rest with you, but it is not one to 'bring him in'."

"What is it, then?" Sara felt like she was teetering on a cliff edge; like she was buffeted by a sea-salt breeze, and any shift in the wind might send her tumbling down.

"I believe you have a responsibility to investigate the matter. On a more personal level, I would appreciate the chance to understand Mr. Vidal's actions."

"Me too." Sara twisted in her seat - just in time to spot Scott peering at her through the window. He ducked out of sight immediately, but Sara didn't miss the look on his face.

He was worried about her.

"Out of those anomalies Tann gave us, which one is closest to Kadara?"

"ZA-32. It is on the edge of the Zaubray system."

Sara stood up. This time, her injured foot didn't pain her at all.

"Then buckle up, buddy."


	25. Twenty Five

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Director Jarun Tann_

_Ryder,_

_The last of the anomaly coordinates have been confirmed and marked in the Tempest's database. Please advise which destination you intend to be your first._

That was it. Sara grinned to herself as she strode towards the Tempest's bridge. The access doors were standing open; framing Kallo and Suvi as they craned around to watch her from their seats. The rest of the crew was gathered within - even Jaal, freshly returned from the Resistance embassy on Bosora, and Cora in her loose-fitting casual clothes. But Sara looked right past them, because Zheng He was burning brightly beyond. Its flickering blue corona obscured the more distant stars around it, and Sara could have sworn that it burned a path right through to her core.

This was where she was meant to be.

"Welcome back," Suvi chirped when Sara entered. She was beaming almost as brightly as the star.

Kallo's eyes were rounder than Sara had ever seen them. "It's good to have you here, Pathfinder."

Sara might have teared up, but she was grinning much too hard for that. "Thanks."

Her heart swelled a little larger with every step she took towards the galaxy map. Looking down, she could see the Nexus arms through the transparent observation platform. It looked for all the world like she could tumble right through it -

But she wouldn't. She was the Pathfinder again, and she was on top of more than just one world.

"We're going to the Zaubray system. Can you notify Tann, Suvi?"

"Absolutely, Pathfinder." Suvi was almost bubbling over with eagerness - and Sara felt it too.

First stop: ZA-32. Second stop: Kadara. She didn't have everything figured out yet, but two steps was a huge improvement over zero. She'd only had SAM back for a little over a week, and she already felt infinitely improved.

She'd been taking her blood thinners as prescribed. Her ankle's range of movement was improving, and it wasn't hurting anymore. Most of the pink had faded from her hair, which was a less than happy development, but she'd done a decent job at dyeing the bleached bits back to their natural brown. When she'd told SAM that it was the most difficult thing she'd ever done, she was only stretching the truth by a fraction - and when she'd farewelled Scott at the spaceport that morning, her smile had been completely genuine.

It was just as if something had been slotted back into place at the junction of her ribs. She could have lived with being just Sara Ryder.

But she greatly preferred being the Pathfinder.

A little shiver rolled over her as she turned around to face the crew. Even Drack looked like he was smiling, and Sara didn't mind that the expression was more than a little terrifying. They'd all said their private hellos already - and private apologies, in Jaal's case. He'd told her about his plan to leave the Tempest, but he assured her that it was well and truly abandoned now that Director Tann was cowed. Sara couldn't blame him for wanting to leave. In his position, she would have wanted the same.

"Hi there," she said.

At the back of the group, Peebee cheered. Gil gave Sara two thumbs up, but Vetra groaned.

"Spirits, Ryder - there's really no need to make a speech."

Sara just grinned. She wasn't sure how she could feel both unbreakable and porcelain.

But she did.

"I can't tell you what it means to be back here," she said - and maybe they all felt the gravity of it, because no one interrupted her again. "And I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you all did for me."

She gestured at the star behind her, the motion sending shadows dancing across the bulkheads. She felt suddenly and acutely self-conscious, but she let the blue light burn it out.

"We're headed for the first of Dr. Aridana's Scourge anomalies. We'll take a look around for any suggestion of a hidden system lurking out there somewhere, but we're not going to be doing anything dangerous. After that, we're going to Kadara."

That drew a few nods. Liam's gaze dropped to the floor, and Cora's jawline tightened. Jaal's reaction was the strongest. Sara could have sworn she saw her own hurt reflected in those star-bright ocean eyes.

"You might have heard about it," she went on around the lump in her throat. "You might not. But we've reason to suspect Reyes was involved in Jien Garson's murder."

Sara heard their reactions: gasps; whispers; snarls - but she kept her gaze on Jaal, and she blocked the rest of it out. Maybe this was a betrayal, or maybe it was keeping a pact. Did Reyes deserve her silence more than her crew deserved her trust?

"But I need to you to keep it to yourselves."

"Why?" Drack's smile was gone. Out of all of them, he'd always been the most ready to challenge her over Reyes.

"Huh?"

"Why should we keep it quiet? Didn't peg you for the type that goes around protecting murderers."

"I'm not."

It felt less like speaking around a lump, now, and more like speaking past an iron-fingered grip. Sara might have wondered when Drack, of all people, had decided to draw distinctions between ordinary killing and murder - but she knew what he was really doing.

He was feeling around for her broken pieces.

So she stared him down with all of her impenetrable porcelain strength. Given her recent master class in standing her ground, Sara could have gone toe-to-toe with an oncoming apocalypse.

"If you spread this around, and it gets back to Tann, we lose our opportunity to do things the right way."

"And what way's that, kid?"

Sara shrugged. She tried to play it off as casual - but she really didn't have a clue.

"The way that doesn't start a war."

Zaubray, as it turned out, wasn't hiding some passage to a rich and undiscovered world. The Scourge anomaly detected by the Initiative's astronomers was pretty, Sara supposed, and SAM and Suvi both assured her that their close-range scans yielded a wealth of informative data - but none of that changed anything. By the time they finished their scanning, Peebee was bouncing off the bulkheads, having chosen to weather the news of Reyes' confession by pretending she hadn't heard it at all. Sara wasn't far from climbing those same bulkheads herself.

She was already climbing out of her skin.

It didn't help that the mission didn't involve any boots on the ground. There _was_ no ground. Sara spent the time hanging out behind Kallo's chair, exchanging stories while he guided them around and through the Scourge. When the last scan was finally finished, she clapped him on the shoulder.

"All right. Kadara, please."

She wasn't undertaking this lightly, of course. Any excursion to Kadara - and this one, in particular - was destined to be another blacked-out SAM log. It was something Tann could use against her in future.

But Sara just didn't care.

She headed for the cargo hold, keeping her head by keeping things simple. As far as Sara was concerned, there was a point A and a point B - and all she had to do was get from one point to the other. For now, point B was Keema's throne room, because Sara was neither stupid nor naïve enough to think she could take Reyes by surprise.

"Pathfinder?"

"Yes, SAM?"

Sara had already decided to keep a gun with her in the port. She'd spent a fortune on new ones since the Roekaar on Bosora disintegrated half of her team's stock. This one, she could keep inside her jacket -

"Your message to Kadara has received a reply."

It took her a moment. "One of my messages to Reyes?"

She had changed course almost before she realized what she was doing. She headed for her cabin, her heart scaling her ribs like it saw light somewhere above.

"The message is from Keema Dohrgun." SAM's voice was hesitant in a way it never was. "She has asked you to cease your attempts to contact Mr. Vidal."

Sara stopped dead in her tracks. Something cold and heavy settled atop her lungs. "He asked her to send me that?"

"The message does not specify."

Sara's nails dug into her palms.

"Pathfinder?"

"I'm fine."

The hum of the Tempest's engine core was a quiet, steady baseline, and Sara found herself clinging to it like a zero-g tether. The corridor leading to her cabin stretched out to cover light-years, but time condensed to make up the difference. She took a moment to breathe in the silence as the door slid shut behind her. FTL-blurred starlight was filtering through the transparency, and one of her shirts was still lying on the floor, untouched since before this entire nightmare started.

She wanted to tell SAM to delete the message; to obliterate it, even, and show the Charlatan the same disregard he showed her.

But she didn't.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_I don't know how much clearer the message can be, Ryder. He doesn't want to talk. Please, stop attempting to contact him._

_At this point, you're only embarrassing yourself._

\--

The air tasted so sour. It was an effort to type with precision - or even just to find the words necessary for a legible message. She wanted to pitch her terminal out of the airlock.

_To: Keema Dohrgun_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_I decide when I'm embarrassed. I'll be on Kadara shortly. If I can't talk to him, I guess I'll have to talk to you._

_See you then!_

She took great relish in the exclamation point.

Peebee wanted to come with her. They all did, really. The whole crew was wandering around the cargo hold with the air of people who wanted to be invisible - but also wanted to be _not_. Peebee, though - she was obvious about it. She clambered up onto the Nomad's nose while Sara waited for Kallo to bring the Tempest into dock. She shattered the delicate silence like it was utterly beneath her notice.

"I'm ninety-nine to one million percent sure that it was Kian who saw me last time." Stretching one leg out in front of her to examine the toes of her boot, Peebee gave a resolute nod. "Pity no one told him this means _war_."

"Peebs -"

 _"_ Wait!" Peebee held up a hand to forestall the interruption. "I've got a _plan_. You're skipping the armour this time, right? And your hair's probably long enough to tie up. I borrowed Liam's sunglasses last time he went to the galley, so if you wear those too -"

"I'm not going to Tartarus."

"Huh?" For a moment, Peebee just blinked at her. "Hm. Makes sense, I guess. Except that it _doesn't_."

"Someone will notify Reyes the second I step off this ship." Saying the words out loud only reinforced Sara's decision. "If he doesn't want me to find him, I won't."

"Ugh!" Peebee dropped her outstretched leg. It hit the Nomad's bullbar with a _thunk_. "Then what are we even doing here?"

"I'm going to pay Keema a visit. How long, Kallo?"

"Finalizing docking procedures now, Pathfinder."

Sara glanced around a final time. The crew were still lurking. Even Cora and Lexi were there, leaning on the upper catwalk railing, although Lexi looked ready to fight someone if Cora so much as mentioned going planetside herself. Drack's glower - and the way he peered at Sara's gun - said just about everything that could be said, and Liam's uncertainty came to life in restless pacing.

"I'm going alone," Sara said -

And pandemonium broke loose.

Peebee leapt to her feet. "Are you kidding me?"

"No way, kid." Even Drack was barely audible over everyone else's shouting. "Things have changed since you were here last."

Vetra was livid. "Why are you always going off alone? _Why?_ " When everyone ignored her in favour of their own individual rants, she clapped her hand over her eyes. "We're all doomed."

"Take me, at least," Liam shouted over all of them. "I was a cop -"

"Shut _up!_ " Sara howled.

And they did. Sara could have heard a pin drop. Instead, she heard the boarding ramp monitor beep.

"Docking complete," Kallo informed them.

"I'm going alone," Sara said into the silence. "If it turns out I need back-up, I'll call you. But this isn't a mission. We're not raiding Keema's palace, and we're not barging in to make an arrest."

"You sure?" Drack's gaze was level. "If you asked, I'd do it. Charlatan or no Charlatan."

For a moment, Sara couldn't breathe.

"I'm sure."

She headed for the boarding ramp. It felt like an escape, but she could have been leaping face first into the fire. She hit the controls, and the ramp began to open -

"Half hour check-ins," Cora called out from behind her. Her voice was steady, but Sara knew worry when she heard it.

Sara turned just long enough to give her a mock-salute. "You got it."

Then she disembarked the Tempest, and plunged into Kadara Port.

The sun was almost directly overhead. It appeared that the port's winter had well and truly passed; Govorkam's rays were scorching, and Sara found herself working up a sweat within minutes. She tried to stay beneath the awnings that dotted the marketplace district, but she wished she'd borrowed Liam's sunglasses after all. Beyond simply protecting her eyes, they would have made it easier to go unnoticed amongst the milling hordes. There were spacers everywhere; Initiative, exiles and angara alike - but Sara didn't miss the turian that followed her through the crowd.

Maybe she should have been afraid. Maybe she _would_ have been afraid - if not of her Collective tail himself, then of Kaetus; Kandros; Oblivion - but the weight of his gaze only stretched Sara's spine to its fullest. She held her head high, and she made no attempt at stealth when she turned for Keema's palace. Let him watch. Let him go to Reyes.

Let him tell the Charlatan that Sara Ryder was walking tall.

The crowds began to thin out as she approached the palace. Out in the open, Sara's almost-anonymity was lost. Even without her armour or her team, the people of Kadara Port would know her anywhere. Whispers followed her up the stairs to the entrance, and guards barred her entry at the doors.

There were four of them.

Sara plastered on her widest smile. "Seems like overkill."

"Keema said you'd be flattered," the nearest guard replied. He was an angara; tall, scarred, and altogether unimpressed by her bravado. "If you're coming in, you're leaving the gun."

"What gun?"

"The one you'd be an idiot to come here without."

Sara managed a laugh, although the words sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't all that long ago that the Collective had been afraid of her.

Had things really changed that much?

"Fine." Moving slowly, Sara retrieved the weapon from inside her jacket. Handing it over left a sour taste in her mouth. "Take good care of it."

"If you insist."

The angara led her to the throne room, accompanied by a silently glowering asari. Sara's footsteps produced faint echoes on the metal floor. Instinctively, she stomped her feet a little harder - and the echoes began to build until they followed her like thunder.

Keema didn't sit her throne comfortably. She made a good attempt at the pretense, of course; Sara found Kadara's puppet leader sitting with one leg crossed over the other, the sunlight at her back casting half her face in shadow. The combined effect left Keema coming close to inscrutability.

But she didn't send her guards away.

"How wonderful to see you, Pathfinder." Keema smiled, but it lacked her usual warmth. "What brings you to Kadara?"

Raising one eyebrow, Sara jerked her head at the closest guard. There were six of them in total, including the two in Sara's escort. "I was hoping for a private conversation."

"That won't be necessary. I expect this will be a short audience."

Sara suppressed a sigh. What did Keema think screwing her around was going to achieve?

"I want to talk to him."

"We don't always get what we want, I'm sorry to say. But I'll let him know you dropped by."

Sara glanced at the guards. Her angaran escort was unreadable, but the asari on her other side was chewing her lower lip. The rest of them seemed on edge, too - but perhaps a little confused, as well.

Did Keema know about Garson, or did she think this was just a lovers' quarrel? Sara wished she could ask her outright - and _hell_ , maybe she should have just done it -

But she still wanted to protect him.

"Send them away," she said instead. It wasn't a request, and it wasn't an order. Sara told herself it wasn't a plea.

"No. I think this conversation is over." Keema waved a hand at her guards -

And Sara sat down on the floor. The guards beside her flinched, but nobody tried to shoot her. Small victories, Sara supposed. She smiled to herself as she settled her weight and crossed her legs.

Keema was staring, one hand still hovering like she'd forgotten what she planned to do with it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm staging a sit in."

"A what?"

"It means I'm not leaving until you give me what I want."

Keema hesitated. Her gaze flicked to the guards, then back to Sara. "This is a joke, yes? This is something humans do for fun?"

"Some of us, I guess. But I'm very serious."

Sighing, Keema rubbed at her eyes with both palms. When she spoke, it was with the air of the truly despairing. "Carry her out, if you have to."

Nodding, the angaran guard reached for Sara's arm -

"No."

Biotic blue flares sprang to life along Sara's limbs. They wreathed her hands, too, and licked at the air around her head; flickering, but fierce - and unmistakably potent.

"If you touch me," Sara announced, "I'll fight back. I won't need a gun to do it."

She hoped they couldn't hear the slight tremble in her voice.

"Ryder." Keema braced her chin on one hand. She spoke gently, like a mother to a daughter in hysterics. "There's no need for this."

"Then tell me where he is."

"I promise to inform him -"

"Not good enough. I'm sick of the bullshit, Keema."

It felt like Keema's silence could have stretched out to forever. She stared at Ryder from atop her borrowed throne, and not even Govorkam's glare could hide her uneasiness. Whatever was going on in Reyes' head; whatever he'd said to Keema, or perhaps kept to himself -

The Collective _was_ still afraid of her.

Keema straightened. "Leave us," she told the guards.

If they were surprised, they didn't show it. Oddly, Sara didn't feel any sort of triumph as they filed out the door. Her mouth was bone dry. When she and Keema were finally alone, she let her biotic aura die.

"This is madness," Keema hissed. She leaned back on her throne again, resting one clenched fist on her thigh. "You're not the first person who's ever been ghosted, Ryder - even if we eliminate the Milky Way from the discussion."

"This isn't about being ghosted." Sara didn't ask where Keema had learned that particular human idiom, because she didn't want to think about Reyes explaining it. "I need to see him. Just… call him, and tell him that I'm not leaving until he speaks to me."

Keema's hand was tapping on her thigh, now. The rhythm was anxious. Irregular.

Finally, she released the breath she'd been holding. She keyed up her omni-tool, the orange display almost lost amid Govorkam's scattered rays.

"Madness," she repeated.

\---

The air was thin up here. Reyes' mountaintop perch speared even higher than the port, but it was neither broad nor stable enough to house a settlement. Hell - it could barely be called a mountain. It was a rocky pillar, really; a pockmarked column of scoria stretching for the black hole in the sky.

It was stable enough for a secure comms installation, though, and sturdy enough to bear the weight of his shuttle in the bargain. Reclining against the vehicle's starboard access, Reyes rubbed his fingertips over a particularly egregious patch of disfigured insulation. Cleaning all the sand away after the shuttle's retrieval from Elaaden had been a pain in the ass, but the job of replacing the triple-layered hull panels would reach a whole new level of irritating.

Maybe he should just swap it for a new one.

The sunlight was piercingly bright today. The force of it - and the _weight_ of it, almost, in an oppressive heat like this - flattened the crags around him like a white-orange punishment for hubris. It was hard to believe that winter was only a few weeks past, but spring didn't really exist on Kadara. At this elevation, the UV intensity was probably already grilling him, but Reyes couldn't bring himself to move. A mountain breeze had the temperature teetering on the interface between bearable and not, and it reminded him of where he'd started.

It reminded him that everything he did had purpose.

Right now, his purpose was to avoid Sara. His eyes on the docks had reported her disembarking the Tempest a short while ago, and the message had left him feeling a little wobbly. He counted himself lucky that he'd already been on his way to check out the installation, but he didn't envy Keema. She was in for an unpleasant encounter - especially now that Sara had her title back.

That meant she must have SAM back, too. The combination was sure to make her red-cheeked and reckless.

When his omni-tool buzzed, Reyes didn't kid himself. "Keema."

She didn't bother with the pleasantries. "Ryder is in my throne room."

"And where are you?"

"In the antechamber. Don't worry. She can't hear you."

The relief was almost palpable; like a knot in his aorta had unfurled - but it was tightening again before the last twist even started to slip. "Is she okay?"

"Of course she is. She's in my throne room."

Reyes let his head fall back against the shuttle with a _thud_. "Then why are you calling me at all?"

"She's refusing to leave unless you talk to her."

"So make her leave. I didn't put you where you are so you could come to me with all your problems."

"I'm sure you already realize this, but this particular problem is definitely yours." Keema's voice was tight - and if Reyes didn't know better, he might have thought she was starting to panic. "Do you know what a 'sit in' is?"

"…Yes."

"Well, Ryder says she's staging one. She threatened my guards with biotics when they tried to move her."

Reyes closed his eyes. Of course she did.

"I don't want any part in it." He didn't want regrets, either. Those were things meant for the Milky Way.

"Don't give me that!" Keema didn't sound angry. She sounded _scared_. "I didn't sign on to fend off your ex-girlfriends."

"Sara's not -" Reyes almost bit his own tongue off trying to cut that sentence short. "Tell her I'm offworld," he said instead. "It's been too long since I visited Advent. She'll believe it."

"Don't be naïve. You know that she won't." There came a pause, then; a staticky second of silence in which Reyes could almost _feel_ Keema steeling herself. "Unless we forcibly remove her, she's not going anywhere."

Taut frustration was building in Reyes' chest. The sunlight was painting the insides of his eyelids orange. Dull pain was throbbing in his knuckles - and it took him a moment to realize he was clenching his fists.

"Reyes." Keema's tone was careful. "I need you to give me the order."

"Why?" Reyes opened his eyes. He knew he sounded like he'd been chewing glass, but he forced as much anger into the word as he could. Under other circumstances, he'd have been much more careful about the way he handled Keema.

But this was a matter of triage. He'd prefer she think him brutish over broken.

"Because this could get ugly," Keema said. "And I can't guarantee Ryder won't get hurt. When you change your mind about this later, and you're choosing who to blame - I want assurances that it won't be me."

Reyes' ribs seemed to have locked in place. Sara's safety would always be her best bargaining chip when it came to the Collective.

When it came to him.

"Reyes?"

"Give her a shuttle," he snapped. Sara was much more manipulative than she gave herself credit for. "And a pilot. I'll send you a location."

"And you _will_ meet her there?"

Even if Sara hadn't come to Kadara to arrest him - and he couldn't discount the possibility, no matter what she'd said when she was watching death approach -

Reyes was already regretting this.

"Yes."

\---

On days like this one, Kadara's caves became pressure cookers. Their rocky walls provided shelter from the worst of the scorching sunlight, but they did little to exclude the heat. The darkness was stifling and sticky - and Reyes couldn't be sure if he felt sweat beading on his neck, or if there was just more water in the air than gas.

Death and thermodynamics, he supposed. Some things were inescapable.

He'd arranged to meet her in Draullir.

Reyes wanted Sara angry. If his weeks-long silence hadn't pushed her there already, this was sure to do the job. He wanted her incensed and incandescent; more exploding star than human - because he missed her enough to open holes in his chest cavity.

 _Shit._ Reyes rubbed at his eyes. He'd parked his shuttle at the uppermost entrance to the caves, nestled close beneath the uneven ceiling. If he stood right on the verge of the drop, he had a clear view across the amber foothills below. The sky hung low over everything, like Govorkam was pressing the atmosphere down. The colour it bleached from the landscape fed right back up toward the black hole.

Beneath everything; the buzzing silence in his ears, and that massless weight hanging from his spine - Reyes found room for a stirring of guilt. If the inner turmoil had really counted for anything, he could have found some profit in enduring - but two galaxies and the space between them had never shown him suffering with purpose. The universe would split at the seams before just _feeling_ changed a thing.

And Reyes was nothing if not a realist.

He stood there in silence, squinting against the glare, until a shuttle emerged from the empty blue above; until the black speck grew to have shape and form and presence, swooping down to land at the ground-level entrance to the caves. Déjà vu was dragging spots of numbness down his neck.

He'd watched from this vantage point when Sloane came to meet the Charlatan. He'd watched Sara clamber out of the Nomad, raking her hair back from her face - and she mimicked the movement now, stumbling out of the shuttle like it was parked on the edge of the world. A cord of razor wire carved crevices in Reyes' ribs; so sharp and split-vein heedless that time blurred through and over him. He could have sworn the world turned grey when Sara headed for the cave.

Everything had come full circle. That should have made it _easy_ , because the steps were there to follow. Sara would look at him the same way she had then, all hollow eyes and diffuse loss, and Reyes would struggle to keep his heart from climbing out through his throat. He'd tell himself he'd seen this coming. He _had_ seen it coming -

Sara turned, glancing up towards his hideaway, and Reyes shrank further back into the shadows. A breeze was whipping her hair across her eyes, but she made no move to secure it. It was brown again, though darker than Reyes remembered it. It made her skin seem somehow paler, like the relentless heat might bleed her dry; like she'd left something of herself back there in Bosora's vault, and she was fumbling for the pieces -

But it didn't change anything. Nothing could.

Reyes turned away. He'd wait for her here, and he'd hold himself together. Whatever he wanted, and whatever _she_ wanted, there would never be any way out of this. He'd known it from the start, of course; from that first moment his heart thudded too hard to be a symptom of simple attraction.

 _Reyes is a better man than you think_ , she'd said to Zia - and she'd wilfully ignored most evidence to the contrary.

_I don't care who you were. Or what you did._

It was only a matter of time before she asked to take it back.


	26. Twenty Six

Sara's limbs felt lined with lead. Her fingertips were tingling, too, as if the metal ions were sinking through her skin - but she'd done her best to hide it as she followed Keema's guards to a private launch pad. Even after Sara had reclaimed her gun, the pilot had looked her over with the air of a handler examining a flightless bird; all precision assessment and poorly-hidden pity. She didn't bat an eye when Sara sent Cora her first check-in.

The flight had stretched far longer than it should have. Sara kept to the back of the compartment, tangled in adrenaline and racing thoughts. The pilot never said a word, even when she brought the shuttle down to land. She didn't need to. Sara had seen the badlands from the air often enough to know that they were headed for Draullir.

The realization left her chest aching dully, like someone had reached past her ribs to leave bruises on the soft tissue inside. If Reyes wanted to hurt her, then he was on track for a perfect score.

Sara exited the shuttle to find a hot wind stirring the dust. The cave entrance was just as dark and foreboding as she remembered it; full of shadows and echoing gloom, like past and present were sharing a tragic joke. The sunlight - hotter than a drive core and half again as bright - was almost blinding. The whole scene was scorched earth and white-bled rock; an artists' impression of the end of all things.

Sara hesitated. She didn't want to let this tattered script play out again -

Something high up the rock face caught her eye. She peered up into the glare, but she was fighting both brightness and darkness at once. Another check-in; another quick acknowledgement. Steeling herself, Sara headed for the cave.

It took time for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. SAM helped, she suspected, although he stayed wisely silent while she made her way deeper into the darkness. Her progress was halting. Slow. It felt like forever since she'd followed Sloane over this same stretch of uneven floor, but it also felt like yesterday. Sweat was beading on Sara's neck, just the same way it had then. The shadows clung to her ankles like seagrass.

She half expected him to step out on his rocky stage; to materialize like siren lights both breaking through and living in the gloom - but he didn't. The humid air stayed undisturbed, and only Sara's footsteps could be heard.

So she kept walking.

Eventually, the floor began to slope upwards. It curved, too, like a spiral staircase or a coiled tail - but only gently. If SAM hadn't pointed it out, Sara might never have noticed.

"The tunnel is ascending, Pathfinder. Your current heading will most likely lead you to the exit you observed upon entry to the caves."

"The one up high?" Sara's breathing was already laboured. It could have been because she hadn't walked this far in weeks - or it could have been because of that tightness in her chest.

"Yes. If Mr. Vidal intends to meet you, it is likely to be there."

There was light up ahead, spilling across the floor like pale blood. It grew brighter as Sara approached, and more direct; the tunnel curving around until she was looking out upon the badlands.

And Reyes.

His shuttle was parked on the edge of the precipice, framed by darkness and merciless light. Reyes himself was almost silhouetted by the glare; half in shadow, and half laid bare -

"You didn't have to run from me." Sara was speaking with someone else's voice. It was too steady; too stable - and too solid on its base of hardened shock and dried-up tears.

"I know."

What little Sara could see of his face was set in stony lines. She pushed forward, stepping close enough to squint past the glare - and he took a matching step backwards. He tried to cover it by folding his arms across his chest.

"Why did you do it?"

"I'm not in any hurry to see the inside of an Initiative prison." Reyes' voice was flat. Emotionless. "Your crew -"

"That's not what I meant." Sara had worked all of that out weeks ago. "Why did you shut me out? I thought that you…"

Reyes didn't supply it for her, and Sara couldn't finish.

_I thought that you loved me._

She'd faced him down like this once before - but this time, it was different. Then, she'd been poised on the precipice of a neon-washed collapse. Her trembling heartbeat had been echoed in her every atom. Her breath had whistled through the chasms inside her.

Now, she was just falling.

She didn't bother with the preamble. She didn't explain what happened in Keema's throne room. She didn't tell him any of the things she'd planned to tell him; about SAM's logs, or Cora's recovery -

"Why did you kill Garson?"

Something about Reyes _dimmed_. Sara couldn't have said what it was, but she sensed she'd disappointed him. His gaze dropped to the floor, but only for a moment. A heartbeat later, he was back to watching her warily.

"I was paid for it."

"That can't be the only reason." The words could have been desperate, she supposed - but they weren't. They were _true_.

"Can't be, Pathfinder?" Reyes' lip curled, his amber eyes full of something cold. He leaned against his shuttle, radiating the Charlatan's cruel composure. "Confidence suits you, but you really should be more careful. Trust is a commodity."

"And I give it away for free?"

"Exactly."

"I know what you're doing." Those bruises on Sara's organs ached - but they held her together, as well. "And it won't work. I'm not leaving until I have answers."

"We have an arrangement, then. So long as you don't expect answers you'll approve of." Reyes' rigid shoulders loosened a little. He stood there in silence, just waiting for her questions.

And that was what got her.

Sara's resolve crumbled. Her featherbone heart fluttered helplessly against her ribcage - then stilled, soundless, as the truth finally hit home. He wanted her gone.

And none of that was an act.

So she swallowed those sobs that tried to bubble to the surface. She fought back that urge to reach for him, and she smothered the fitful fire in her chest.

"Tell me why you did it."

"I was -"

"It wasn't just for money." Sara's eyes were burning, but she refused to dash her tears. She refused to let them fall, either. She'd sooner just combust. "I know you. You're more than a hired killer."

"Everybody is, Sara." He was looking at her like she was a black hole - or maybe like _he_ was; like the two of them were the foci of a galaxy turned inside out.

Maybe Reyes had forgotten already; how he'd cradled her while she was bleeding out in Kaetus' compound, and how he'd tried to shield her from their shared doom in the vault. Maybe he'd forgotten all the times they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, and the goodbyes that felt so much like stitching fire through her heart. Maybe he'd forgotten all the gentleness he'd shown her; all the insecurities he'd let slip, and the times he couldn't help but say _I love you_.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

_Why did you come here, Reyes?_

Sara remembered all of it. She heard him in every silence, and she saw him in her sleep.

_To be someone._

"Someone promised you something, didn't they?"

Reyes dragged a hand across his eyes. "This particular line of questioning is a dead end, Pathfinder. Whatever you're hoping to find, it simply isn't there."

"I don't believe you."

Reyes sighed. He pushed himself upright again, and he let his arms fall to his sides. "Then I guess we'll both just have to live with that."

Sara wasn't sure that she could. "Reyes -"

"Next question."

Sara's heart was pulling itself apart; lurching backward and forward all at once, like it wanted both to reach out and recoil. She knew that the money wasn't all of it. If luxury was what Reyes wanted, he'd have made his bets in the Milky Way. Hopping galaxies wasn't a money-making endeavour -

And maybe she'd never really known Reyes at all, but he wasn't _this._

She wanted to press the issue; to chip away at that dent in his chilly-eyed defences until the walls came down or the world caved in - but if she didn’t change tack, he'd leave.

And Sara might never see him again.

She took another step forward. It wasn't a conscious decision; gravity was pulling her towards him, and she'd stopped fighting that force long ago. Reyes flinched, but he had no room for retreat. He stood a little taller, though, and he squared his shoulders.

But Sara was far beyond warnings. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Reyes scoffed. "Please. If our positions were reversed, you would have kept your silence, too."

"No, I wouldn't!"

"Why not?"

"Because -" Sara floundered, grasping at the foundations of an argument that simply didn't have any. "Because I would have trusted you!"

Sara couldn't believe the evidence of her own eyes anymore, but she could have sworn Reyes almost looked hurt. He didn't reply, so Sara went on.

"You promised that we'd deal with things together. You promised that we'd _try_." The words caught in her throat like fish bones. "But you were lying the whole time."

Silence followed; brief, but platinum-heavy. It coiled around them like the fibres of a noose. The sunlight faded, and the humid heat fled.

"I wasn't lying."

And just like that, Sara was moving again; rushing towards him, her splintered cocoon cracking like cold-snapped bone. Reyes caught her by the wrists, tugging them apart and aside like he was expecting her to lash out - but Sara didn't want to hurt him.

She could have said she hated him, but she couldn't have said what for. It wasn't for Garson. It wasn't for the lying. It wasn't for any individual sin -

Except that he'd left her.

"You lied to me in Kaetus' compound, too." Talking about what happened inside that asteroid still felt like digging shrapnel out of the corners of her lungs - but this might be her last chance to get the words out. "You said they didn't wake you up until after the Scourge disaster was over, but Garson…"

"Died around the same time." Reyes was watching her the way someone might watch a crumbling sky. Whatever he expected her to do, he seemed to know it was inescapable. "I wasn't woken up to scout the cluster. I was defrosted much earlier than that."

"And that bullshit about how Heleus was just _so beautiful_ \- about happiness, and the black hole, and _if you weren't the Charlatan._ You made it all up?"

"No, I -"

"You lied."

Sara struggled against Reyes' grip. She wasn't sure why she wanted her hands free, or what she intended to do with them once they were, but she was drowning in adrenaline. Robbed of her chance at either fight or flight, Sara leaned into him instead. She glared at him with what she hoped was fury -

But it was probably just despair.

"I was _dying_. You looked me in the eye and you -"

"I didn't lie!" Horror flitted across his face, and Sara almost believed him. "Not about that. And you weren't dying! The bullet was out, and you were -"

"Vulnerable." She had to force the word out. Even the mention of it made her legs feel like jelly. It made her feel sick to her stomach; like she'd swallowed her shame and promptly choked on it. Her next words were barely a whisper. "When they took SAM away, and you took me back to Kadara..."

She paused, there, struggling to continue; struggling to _breathe_ past the misery crowding in her throat.

"You promised you'd never leave me."

Reyes was watching her like she was the only real thing in creation. His eyes were wide, but the rest of him was a writ of restrained pain. When he sighed, the whisper and the warmth of it washed through her like a solar wind. He pressed his forehead to hers - or let it fall - and Sara felt her white-streaked heart crack.

"I need you to tell me the truth, Reyes."

Then she said something she'd sworn she wouldn't.

"Please."

\---

Reyes' whole body could have been spun from glass. When she breathed her plea into the air between them, his bones shook like the murmur was an earthquake.

He couldn't give her what she wanted. He _couldn't_. He'd wanted to spare them both a drawn-out ending, but to see her hurting like this; to see her crying -

She'd always been the ruin of him. Always. But she'd never known the real him, because Reyes never let her.

Because people like Sara didn't love men like him.

"What do you want to hear?" He meant it to sound cutting, but it didn't even come close. "I'm not lying to you, Sara. I killed her, and I got paid for it."

The words sent shivers through her; rapid-fire shudders that vibrated up through Reyes' glass-weave fingertips. It wasn't the whole truth - but what did it matter?

Sara was right. He _wasn't_ just a hired killer. He'd taken the job because he was desperate. He wasn't penniless, or cornered, or hemmed in by circling wolves. He'd had a roof over his head, a handful of friends, and a horde of useful acquaintances. He'd had a threadbare stretch of lovers -

But he'd been going in circles. It didn't matter how hard he tried to change it, because nothing he did ever mattered.

And the client had promised him a galaxy.

A _new_ galaxy. One where the skies weren't clogged with a trillion other souls, and where coming out on top was still possible. She'd promised him an early wake-up call, and enough credits to reach nameless stratospheres. A dozen of them.

More, maybe.

It had occurred to him, of course, that a loose end like him couldn't be left to dangle freely; that the offer was too good to be true, and the client would take him out as soon as she had the opportunity. But he'd needed to take his life back.

Because the day-to-day was killing him more quickly every year.

"And?" Sara was close enough that she could have leaned in and kissed him. Her wrists were twisting in his grip.

The heat; the humidity; Sara's breath on his cheek - it was making Reyes' head spin. "That's all," he rasped.

He wondered what it said about him. To be more ashamed of melancholy than a stint as a hired killer -

"I'm not leaving without the whole story." Sara's voice cracked as badly as his. "I still love you."

"How can you?"

The Sara of the Milky Way was nothing like the Reyes of the Milky Way. She was young; outgoing; _fierce_ \- and her failures were all her father's. She hadn't needed to kill someone to make her future.

"How can I not?" She said it with conviction; with the heartfelt, bone-deep earnestness that had always made Reyes' eyes sting.

But that only made it harder to believe her.

People like Sara didn't love men like him. They always found someone less damaged. They enjoyed themselves for a while, of course; made the right noises and said the right words - but they all turned away in the end.

They moved on.

And maybe that was the answer. Maybe if he laid it all out for her; if he discarded those last shreds of pretense, and handed over all the power -

Maybe she'd finally realize her mistake.

\---

Reyes' grip was going to leave bruises, but Sara didn't care. Maybe she'd look at them later, when she needed physical hurts to feed her fury. She'd point to them and tell herself that she was better off.

But she couldn't think that far ahead right now. Reyes was trembling. They _both_ were - like a pair of entangled particles, crippled by the thought of separation. Moisture from the air was beading on his forehead. His hairline was damp, and his eyes were dark.

"She promised me a spot on the Nexus - without a background check. Credits, too. And a guaranteed awakening with the first of the cryo pods."

It was a moment before Sara could reply. There was a bubble sitting heavy in the back of her throat; constricting her breathing and warping her spine.

She couldn't believe this was happening.

"But…you could have enlisted _normally_. Vetra was a smuggler."

"We didn't all get referrals from Nakmor Kesh." Reyes' voice was unmistakably bitter. "Besides, we've been in Heleus for two years _-_ and there are still people sleeping."

"That doesn't mean -"

"My shuttle assignment was N-503. A lot of numbers come before five hundred and three."

Sara's skin felt like it was icing over - but burning, too; like a fire on the fringes of a hull breach. Had he really done all of this just to skip to the front of the line?

"Who is she?" Her voice still sounded much too calm to be her own. "The person who hired you."

Reyes shrugged. It was a one-shouldered thing; careless and half-hearted, as if the Benefactor Sara had been chasing was nothing but an afterthought to him. "We never met in person, and she always disguised her voice. I haven't heard from her since we arrived, either. For all I know, she could be dead." He canted his head to the side, considering - or perhaps just making a show of it. "I suppose I did get a referral - of sorts."

"From who?" Sara already knew the answer.

Reyes' grip on her wrists grew just that little bit tighter. "Charon."

"You knew him from before." Sara's head was spinning. There was so much he hadn't -

Reyes was nodding. The movement dislodged a single bead of sweat. It slid, trembling, down the side of his nose. "We met in the Alliance. He was a piece of work, but he had contacts."

"But he was afraid of you." Sara had never been more sure of anything. She didn't understand half of what had happened with Charon, even after Scott had tried to explain it - but she understood that.

"Not at first." Reyes' eyes darted away; over her shoulder, to stare into the depths of the cave. When they returned a heartbeat later, they were duller than before. "We did some work together before he pulled me in for Garson."

Sara wondered if he felt as numb as she did.

"We had separate targets, but the client insisted we do all the planning together. One assassin is a weapon, but two are insurance." Reyes paused, glancing down at his hands - and the pressure on her wrists abruptly vanished. "Shit. I'm sorry -"

"It's okay."

Sara's wrists were marked by thick bands of indented skin. The marks started to fade as her circulation returned, but Reyes stared at the whitened blotches as if they were open wounds.

Nothing was okay. Not really.

Reyes' breathing was shaky. He turned on his heel to lean back against the shuttle access, his gaze falling on the sun-bleached foothills below. The light washed over him like a solution of diffuse gold.

Sara wanted to cry.

"What did you mean by separate targets?"

"I went into cryo on the Nexus, but Charon was on the Hyperion." Reyes' jaw tightened. His gaze stayed fixed on the scene outside - and Sara knew it was because he couldn't meet her eyes. "He was meant to kill your father."

Time stuttered on its axis.

Sara had always wondered what it felt like to have a heart attack. She'd tried to guess whether the pain in her chest would be the crushing or the piercing kind; whether her lungs would keep pumping uselessly, or if they'd lock up completely. _This_ , though - this felt like everything at once.

She didn't know whether it was better to take another breath or not.

But Reyes was still talking, and she wasn't having a heart attack. "The Scourge collision must have pushed him back to non-essentials. I suppose that explains why he was so grumpy when he finally woke up."

"He was going to kill my dad?"

Reyes fell silent. Finally - _finally_ \- he looked at her. When he spoke, it was flatly; without a hint of sorrow or apology.

"Yes."

He paused, then, and watched her with naked expectation; like he was _waiting_ for something, all upturned wrists and proffered neck -

"Why?" She'd been whispering it into her pillow for weeks. It was a rhythm that underscored her breathing; a drumbeat for her spiderwebbed heart to echo against Scott's ceilings.

Reyes exhaled slowly. He had to have expected the question, but it seemed to disconcert him all the same. His gaze swung back to the sprawling view, but not quite quickly enough to hide the way his eyes widened.

"Charon was getting paid for it." His voice carried no inflection. No feeling. "But I have no idea why the client wanted your father dead. Or Garson, for that matter."

He folded his arms again. His fingers dug into his bicep just a little too deeply. "But I did it anyway. The station was a wreck, at that point. You could see strands of the Scourge through the emergency integrity fields."

"Reyes -"

"I followed her up through half a dozen empty decks. You've never seen anything as dark as the Nexus was when we arrived. I guarantee it. The only lights were the ones that shone through the holes in the hull."

"Stop it." Sara grabbed at his arm, but Reyes sidestepped her. "I don't want to -"

"You don't want to know?" He laughed then - bitter, but _vindicated_ ; like he'd been waiting for this all along. "This is what the truth is, Sara. It's ugly."

This time, he wasn't quick enough.

Sara grabbed him by the collar. Reyes reared away, but all he managed to do was stumble back against the shuttle. Sara followed him, panting, and seized his bicep with her other hand. Maybe he realized he had nowhere to go, short of hurling the both of them out into the void - or maybe he was too shocked to resist. Either way, he simply stood there, breathing just as raggedly as she was.

"They were red." Reyes' gaze was locked on hers. His breath tickled the hollow of her throat. "Garson was hiding in one of the apartments near Peebee's. She begged me not to shoot her."

"But you did it anyway." Sara could have sworn she was floating away; that she was leaving her body in increments, and losing a little more of herself with every breath. She was caught in an ion storm.

"Yes." Reyes' voice had gone flat again; both empty and overflowing - but Sara knew it had to be an act.

No one could be that cold. No one could pretend to love the way that he had. Not so thoroughly. Not for so long -

"Why?" He still hadn't answered her. Not by a long shot. Sara could see him reaching for the response he'd already given her - but she cut him off before he could get a word in. "You could have turned it down. You could have stayed in the Milky Way."

For a time, Reyes was silent. Sara's breathing began to slow while he stared at her, his eyes like twin black holes. When he finally responded, it made her skeleton _bend_ \- like twined glass tripping its melting point.

"I couldn't have stayed."

"Why not? Reyes -"

"Because it was _hopeless_." Just like that, his composure was gone. He dragged his fingers through his hair, heedless of Sara's death grip on his arm. "Every day was a waste. Every time you thought you might have managed to get ahead, you'd wake up in the morning - and it would evaporate."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know what it was like on Earth? The real parts, that is - not the manicured neighbourhoods the Alliance heroes enjoy. I'd wager Alec Ryder never showed you."

Sara's bones turned hard and heavy. "Don't bring my dad into this."

Reyes shook his head; sharply, like her anger was something distant and discoloured. "It doesn't matter. Nothing there did. You could scramble off that planet, and think that you _made it_ \- but you didn't, really. You couldn't."

He tried to shake her off - but Sara refused to be moved.

"We've dragged this out long enough." He didn't sound angry. He sounded tired _._ "And you know I won't let you arrest me."

"I don't want to arrest you!"

He answered with another laugh, the sound rumbling up through his chest to vibrate down her arms - but this one wasn't bitter. It was broken. "Then get off me. It's only a matter of time before the Initiative tries it for you."

Sara shook her head. She planted her feet firmly. "SAM deleted the logs."

For a moment, Reyes looked almost confused. When it dawned on him, his jaw went slack.

So Sara kept talking. "The Initiative doesn't know what you did. Only me and my crew. And Scott."

Reyes' expression hardened again. "You think Cora Harper will tolerate a murderer, Sara? You think that Kosta will? Logs or no logs, the cat is well and truly out of the bag.

"Besides," he went on, shifting his weight like he was testing her grip - and lifting his chin, like he hoped to blind her with resolve - "we've been headed for this for a while. You just weren't built for secrets."

"Bullshit." If Sara could have pinned him against the shuttle, she might have, but she settled for crowding up against him instead. Her wrists were beginning to show their bruises.

It still didn’t feel real. She knew about before and after, and more about the life-altering moments that defined them. Habitat 7, Kaetus' asteroid, and the Nexus med-bay with its too-bright lights; if fates really did have threads, then Sara had slivers of ice lodged in hers. Her history was fragmented by rime-framed wreckage. There was before -

And there was after.

She knew she should be screaming bloody murder; inwardly, if not vocally. She should be beating broken wings against the walls. Failing that, she should be running.

But all she could think about were those moments that _weren't_ life-altering; moments that should have stopped her in her tracks, but didn't do a thing to lessen her momentum. There was Ruth Bekker, of course, but Sara only learned her name because her disease had been so deadly.

There were others, too. Agatus and Liressa were the first to come to mind; put down after they discovered the Charlatan's identity. Then there were the dozens whose faces Sara had never cared to see; every outlaw she'd never given a chance to surrender, and every Roekaar barely trained in the use of a rifle. She'd left eight of them to die in Bosora's vault -

Sara's heartbeat was slow and sluggish, like it was forcing concrete through her veins in lieu of blood. She didn't know how many people she'd killed.

But she knew it was a lot.

"We've all done terrible things." She tightened her grip as she said it, because she could feel Reyes tensing. "Maybe yours is worse than some of mine, but I wouldn't want to compare totals."

Reyes just stared at her. He looked like he'd forgotten how to speak.

"I meant what I said in that vault." That was an understatement, because Sara could hear it echoed in her bones. It rattled up through her skeleton and lingered in her skull, plucking at her cochlear nerve with quick and quavering fingers.

Reyes reached up to take her wrists again; gently, this time, and avoiding the worst of the rising bruises. He never once broke eye contact. "You might think you do," he said. "But we've stood in this spot before, Sara. It didn't go well."

"That was then."

"And people don't change." He rattled it off like a practised defence, but Sara could tell it was more than that. "It might be six weeks from now. It might be six months. But you'll get tired eventually, and we'll both wish you hadn't drawn it out."

"You don't get to tell me what I feel!"

"I've never been wrong about this."

"Jesus!" She wanted to hit something. She wanted to _scream_. "What do you want from me, Reyes? I've never loved anyone more than I -"

"Don't." The word came out rasping - and ragged as the strips it tore off her pulmonary artery.

"I won't let you make this choice for me." Sara's vision was blurring with tears. It had been a long time coming, but she couldn't hold it off any longer. "You can't just decide that I -"

"I'm making this choice for _me_."

Reyes prised her hands away. Sara wasn't sure if he was simply trying harder, or if her trembling hands had finally betrayed her.

"I'm leaving, Pathfinder. When you come back to Kadara, it's going to be in a professional capacity." He hesitated, and Sara felt the world fall out from beneath her. "Do you understand?"

Sara didn't understand anything at all.

"If you turn me in, I won't hold it against you. Just don't expect me to bow to Initiative justice."

Sara could still feel her lungs expanding - but she was collapsing in on herself. "I'm not going to turn you in."

Reyes just eyed her warily, like he might never entirely believe her. He nodded, just once, and keyed in the shuttle access code -

"Don't do this."

Reyes only shook his head. The hatch began to rise, and he ducked under the lip in his hurry to escape.

"Reyes, just _wait_ -"

"Goodbye, Sara." His gaze darted away. He clambered into the pilot's chair, and the hatch started to close.

How could she still be shocked? He'd been avoiding her for weeks. He might have avoided her forever if he could -

"I'm going to come back," Sara blurted.

There was a pressure in her chest, expanding and consuming. Reyes didn’t answer, but he couldn't hide how his expression twisted. Even once the hatch had closed completely, some part of her still waited to wake up. She waited for the triple-layered hull to just dissolve.

But it didn't.

"You're wrong about me!" The sand-blasted alloy bounced her shout back like a bullet. "And I'm going to prove it!"

She knew it was pathetic. She knew it was pointless -

But she held her ground as the shuttle lifted off. The exhaust was roaring; stirring dust and steam and strips of powdered fire - but she refused to step back.

"Six months, Reyes! I'm going to be back here!"

She stood on the edge of the precipice until the shuttle vanished; until it disappeared into the sun-scorched sky, and her omni-tool buzzed with a message from Cora.

She knew her dreams would feed this moment back to her. It might be the clash of light and shadow; the contrast of sticky heat and hollow echoes. It might be the concrete in her chest, or the smoke curling in her veins. It might be the sick and trembling vertigo; that pounding insistence in the back of her skull that said this couldn't be the way it ended.

But everything was quiet.

She'd lost her parents, and she'd survived. She'd lost SAM, and she'd survived. She'd left everything she knew behind her -

And now Reyes had left her, too.


	27. Twenty Seven

Six months. Hardly more than a heartbeat, by Milky Way standards, but half an Earth year was all it took for the angara of Bosora to build a thriving eezo trade in Heleus. Plentiful materials laid the groundwork for a frenzy of research and development - amongst the Resistance, in particular, but the Milky Way species as well. Bosora's angara, though newcomers to interstellar trade, took care to leverage their unique position; they were willing to share their resources, but they surrendered nothing for free.

Ditaeon, largely thanks to its proximity to Kadara Port's shipping infrastructure, emerged as a hotbed of multilateral innovation. The Collective, still headed by Keema Dohrgun, protected the Initiative outpost as fiercely as an eiroch matriarch.

That was what the other pathfinders' reports said, at least. Sara preferred to avoid Kadara.

She had plenty of other work, of course. Although her relationship with the Nexus leadership would probably never be friendly again, Tann and Kandros had both mellowed considerably. Their investigation into the raids Sara had been accused of enabling implicated an unnamed outlaw faction - which painted her outburst in Tann's office in a rather different light.

When her cabin was at its quietest, Sara sometimes wondered how her name had been cleared at all. Little remained of the battle on Bosora beyond a handful of wrecked shuttles and some fresh volcanic rock. She had her suspicions, but she kept them to herself.

The Initiative's maps of Heleus were steadily becoming clearer. The turian, salarian and asari Pathfinders were back at full operating capacity, equipped with their own ships and assisted by their own specialist teams. Like Sara, they were roaming the outer reaches of the cluster; conducting scans, collecting data, and getting their boots dirty wherever possible. They hadn't come across any new golden worlds yet, but Meridian's records suggested it had to happen one day.

And Sara wanted to be first.

Her crew wanted it, too. Things were looking up for them. Peebee was delighted by the new tech coming in from Ditaeon. Jaal's spirits were buoyed considerably by the improvement of Initiative-Resistance relations, and Cora was back to bench pressing her body weight without issue. Scott had taken a position as a Meridian liaison to the Nexus, despite the station's dwindling importance. He claimed he wanted to keep an eye on Tann -

But Sara suspected he had other agendas, too.

They had never agreed to keep anything a secret. There were no whispered conversations around the conference table; no memos that ended with _burn after reading_ , or eyebrows raised before comms contact with the station. In fact, they never spoke of it at all.

But that didn't matter. Even Drack and Cora obeyed the unspoken edict. As far as the Nexus was concerned, Garson's death was still an unsolved mystery that no one particularly wanted to solve. The Collective was, if anything, more vital an ally than before - and whether they'd reached their decisions together or alone, Sara's friends had decided it was her call to make.

She was doing okay. She was off her blood thinners, and SAM had informed her that all traces of her clots had disappeared. She was amongst the stars - where she was always meant to be - and she had moved on with her life.

But she avoided Liam's attempts to set her up with someone else. She avoided a lot of things, really. Most of all, she avoided talking about it -

But SAM asked, sometimes.

At six months to the second, he woke her from a fitful doze. She was lying on her bed, with one forearm flung across her face. She'd spent the day exploring a planet the Resistance called Pas-70. It wasn't a golden world, but it was definitely boots-on-the-ground, and her limbs ached with an empty-boned satisfaction.

"Pathfinder?"

"Yes, SAM?"

"Are you lonely?"

The question didn't come as a shock. Sara was just as aware of the timeframe as SAM was, but she still didn't know how to respond. His words curled and coiled around a weightless mass in her chest. She'd been carrying it around with her for half an Earth year.

It didn't hurt. It didn't do much at all.

"How could I be lonely? I've got you."

"That is the reason for my confusion."

That made her laugh. She still couldn't tell when he was joking. He'd been inside a human head - if not necessarily hers - for years now. He _had_ to get it.

Right?

"Why are you so confused?"

"Positive interpersonal exchanges stimulate the release of oxytocin from your pituitary gland. This is true of both your interactions with other organics and your exchanges with me."

"So?"

"So you should not be lonely."

When Sara dragged her arm away from her eyes, the cabin lights made them sting. "I'm not lonely, SAM. Can you turn off the lights?"

Gentle darkness descended. With the overheads extinguished, the stars beyond the window seemed much brighter than before; like pinprick holes in inky velvet held up to a perfect white light.

"May I ask another question?"

If Sara let her gaze slide out of focus, the empty spaces between the stars seemed comforting. No matter where she roamed, those far-flung wastelands never shifted. She could live or die; win or lose - and some things would stay the same.

She already knew what SAM was going to ask. "Go ahead."

"Do you still think about Mr. Vidal?"

"Yes."

"I see." SAM spoke as gently as an AI could. "Do you still miss him?"

"Yes."

"You still love him."

That one wasn't a question, but Sara didn't care. "Yes."

"At what point do you intend to stop?"

He made it sound so easy; like turning off a feeling was as simple as flipping a few quantum states. She wondered if that was what he'd done. He loved Reyes too, didn't he? Maybe she should be asking for advice.

Six months was a heartbeat - but it was an eternity, as well. Sara should be over him by now.

"I don't know."

For a moment, SAM was silent. Sara wondered what he was doing with the extra processing time. Marvelling, probably, at the Pathfinder's pining. There were times Sara wished she'd never met Reyes, but those moments were few and far between. Most of the time, she just wished he was here.

"Is that normal?"

Sara gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Probably not."

\---

An eezo shipment from Bosora. A Resistance freighter making a stop en route to Elaaden. A handful of smaller shipments headed for Ditaeon, and a single Meridian transport filled with new staff for the same.

There were a hundred better time wasters out there. The bottle of whiskey on the table, for instance, or the strobe-silhouetted bodies on the dancefloor. If Reyes had wanted distraction, his options were abundant, and the company was right there for the taking. But he couldn't make out the dancers' faces. The bottle caught and twisted the lights, but the spirits kept little of the burn.

His gaze kept coming back to the docking records.

A booze shipment for Kralla's. Ammo from Prodromos. Returning Collective assets, and a few angaran traders. There were independent freighters by the dozen.

"Reyes?"

He didn't lash out as Kian sidled up to him, but the impulse was definitely there. The red lights on Tartarus' lower floor did Kian no favours; they drizzled shadows through every line on his furrowed brow. His gaze dropped to the datapad in Reyes' hands -

Reyes turned it over, and pinned Kian with his most flat-edged smile. "Was there something you needed?"

After a moment of hesitation, Kian returned it. "How goes the search?"

"Search is a strong word, my friend." Reyes tried to trap the tension behind his teeth, but he suspected Kian heard it anyway. "Too strong."

Though Kian's gaze lingered on the chair opposite Reyes', something kept him from claiming it. Prudence, probably. Reyes' sour mood had to be plain to see.

"Can I get you anything?"

Reyes shook his head. Abandoning his seat, he headed for the stairs. It wasn't an effort to avoid company -

But he made it all the way to his room before he realized he'd left the bottle behind.

His mood would pass. Six whole months had passed already, after all - and Reyes had survived every one of them. Everything would be easier tomorrow. He had reports on the progress of Ditaeon's drive core research to catch up on, and updates from his lieutenants to peruse. Milestones had sharp edges, but they couldn't reshape reality.

Still, it was only natural to wonder.

Sara hadn't turned him in. None of Reyes' Initiative agents had heard anything that might suggest an investigation into Garson's death. Reyes couldn't fathom how she'd convinced her team to keep their silence. If he put his people on it, he could probably find out - but Reyes made a point of keeping Sara unsurveilled. He owed her that, at least.

He owed it to himself, too.

The Tempest didn't appear on any of the docking records. The ship hadn't passed within a two-system radius of Kadara in six brief and interminable months. Sara wasn't here, and it only confirmed what Reyes already knew. It was one of life's surest fundamentals; a pattern mapped out in his back-and-forth bone fibres. It was why they were here in the first place.

So he threw himself into his work. It was a tried and true survival method, and it hadn't failed Reyes yet. The day trickled by like saltwater, and the hollow behind his sternum refilled with the passage of the hours - but when Keema's message came through in the late afternoon, it was only inertia that kept him steady.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Keema Dohrgun_

_You should see this._

_\-------_

_To: Keema Dohrgun_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_FW: Reyes_

_I'm sure he still has me blocked. Forward one message for me, and this will be the end of it._

_Reyes,_

_I took a charter shuttle, because there's no sense in dragging my whole team out here. I'll be in Draullir until sundown._

_I keep my promises._

It was like being pitched straight from rest to light speed. Time stretched out - or maybe it stopped. Tartarus' music fell silent, but his booming heartbeat made up the difference.

Maybe he was wrong. He hated himself for the thought, because all it could do was build him up for another fall. He'd _never_ been wrong about this. If he went to Draullir, he'd find her spiteful. Angry, maybe, and looking to wound -

Six months. Half a year.

Reyes had to know why.

Kian gave him a _look_ as he exited Tartarus. Reyes ignored it, making a beeline for the shuttle he kept parked at the entrance to the badlands. Though the flight to Draullir was short, tension coiled at the base of his oesophagus all the while. By the time the caves came into view, the rasping weight of it was obstructing his breathing. Govorkam was already well on its way towards the jagged horizon, and the mountains cast long shadows across the shallow slopes between.

He found a landing site just shy of the caves' lower entrance. If Sara was watching - and some part of Reyes still doubted, even now - she would certainly see his shuttle descend. The sinking sun blazed unimpeded on the rock face, and there was no shelter to be had. His hands didn't shake as he brought the shuttle down to land, but his heart had no concerns about appearances; when its anxious beat stuttered, it was without a hint of pretense.

He paused at the cave entrance, glancing up towards the overlook - the one that he'd watched Sara from, all those months ago.

This was the definition of insanity. For all Reyes knew, Sara wasn't here at all. It could be a trick; a ploy to draw him out without a plan or ready back-up. Maybe one of Sara's crew had finally grown weary of silence.

Harper? Kosta? They seemed the two most likely, but he couldn't discount the rest. Drack had always harboured reservations about their relationship. Scott? It didn't seem in character, but a position with the Nexus might have been the push he needed -

The train of thought kept going, but it wound up tangled with a dozen others. None of it mattered, really. Reyes already knew what he was going to do. If the Initiative's retribution could have stopped him, he would still be back in Tartarus.

He missed her.

It was the simplest feeling he'd ever had. And if she still missed him, after all this time -

Reyes couldn't leave without knowing.

The cave floor was uneven. In the time it took for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Reyes could have been ambushed half a dozen times. He kept one hand on his gun as he made his way towards the overlook, but no one leapt out to arrest him. No one showed up to take advantage of his suspended disbelief. He passed the spot where Sloane had lost her life; followed the curving wall and sloping floor -

And stopped dead in his tracks.

He didn't know what he'd expected. The sunlight was at her back, and it framed her in pale radiance. It was in her hair, too, just like in Reyes' memory. It silhouetted her with a sunburst, and it obscured her features with gold. The glory was her refuge, and a mask that Reyes' stinging eyes couldn't penetrate. She could have been happy to see him - or she could have been coldly furious.

"Reyes."

But it _was_ her.

"Sara."

The sun didn't look on Reyes with the same kindness. On him, the glare became a spotlight. The harsh light turned his skin to ash - and he could feel it bleaching quaking bones.

"I'm here," she said, as if she didn't quite understand why.

Reyes didn't understand it either. "So I see."

"You were wrong about me."

Just looking at her felt like picking apart the stitches on a poorly-healed wound. The fact that she was here proved nothing. He knew he shouldn't need it, but if this was just to make a point -

"Say something, at least."

Her voice was shaky; like she was stumbling over melting ice. She stepped closer, and her halo faded. Her hair was longer than before. The skin around her eyes was thinner, too; trending towards purple, as if she'd ground the heels of her palms into them one too many times.

"Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll go."

"I can't." Reyes' skin was stretched paper-thin, too. He could feel it cracking with every heartbeat. He was breaking open pore by pore.

"Then tell me something else."

What could he say? He remembered every promise he'd ever made her, and they all lay in tatters at his feet. He remembered every promise she'd made, too.

And here she was, keeping her last.

"This is all I can do, Reyes." The sun over her shoulder was turning everything red and gold. "This is my last try. I won't say that I love you, because I know you won't believe me. But I do."

She stopped, then, and dragged her hand across her eyes. Unshed tears made her lashes clump together; salt-stained and dark, like the fringes of the black hole above them.

And it _hurt_.

"I still love you, too."

Neither of them moved. Sara's ragged breathing had stilled, and her sun-splashed eyes were wide. Reyes' heartbeat was loud enough to move the bones of Kadara itself; to uncover its magmatic heart and lay it at her feet. People like Sara didn't love men like him.

"Do you really think it could work?" Reyes' throat could have been lined with broken glass. "Us. Long-term."

The future was just so _much_. There were so many uncertainties, and they all stretched out to an end that would either be too long or too soon coming. Not everything could be planned for, and Sara least of all. But she smiled at him.

It was hesitant. Tremulous.

Real.

"It's been a hell of a time so far," she said. "But yes."

"Why?" He needed more than blind optimism. He needed -

Sara stepped closer. She was trembling like a nebula stirred by a passing storm. It was almost as if she was afraid; afraid that if she moved too much or breathed too hard, their beautiful illusion might shatter. Gingerly, she slipped her arms around his waist.

Reyes let her. When she leaned in to press her lips against his jaw, the whole planet stopped mid-spin.

"Because I used to think I didn't know you." Her breath was warm on his neck, and her hands pressed flat against the small of his back. "But I do. I know you better than I know myself."

Reyes was staring into the sun. His heart was going to wear a hole in his ribs.

Sara's palm found his cheek, and she took his face between her hands. At her wordless coaxing, he finally looked into her eyes. His lips parted on a sigh when her thumb grazed his cheekbone.

The future might be unknowable, but that didn't mean it had to be bleak.

Sara's eyes were burning brightly, like she'd stolen something of creation itself. "Is that enough for you?"

Reyes had never found anything that was - but Sara Ryder loved him.

"I'm beginning to think that it is."


End file.
